


Heart of a Champion

by dragonfly_moonlight



Series: Life's Tragic Circumstances [1]
Category: Mach GoGoGo | Speed Racer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-26
Updated: 2011-03-15
Packaged: 2017-10-12 05:25:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 32,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/121263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonfly_moonlight/pseuds/dragonfly_moonlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life is full of changes. It's how we react to them that determine how well we survive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story was published at fanfiction.net, first under the ID of americanrose then again under Silverblue Sakura. I am Silverblue Sakura of ff.net. Please do not freak out if you've seen this there, 'kay?
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Speed Racer or the characters from Speed Racer, and I do not profit from the writing of this story.

The sun had not risen yet when a pair of deep blue eyes unveiled themselves to the world. Their owner, Greg "Speed" Racer, yawned as he woke up and rubbed the sleepiness out of his eyes. With a groan, he buried his face into his pillow. For a moment, he couldn't figure out why he had woken before his alarm clock went off. After all, he had set it for seven and it read 5:01 A.M. Greg frowned to himself as he stared as his clock.

'The race isn't until Saturday . . . Can't be that . . . I know I have to practice but not until Sparky gets back from Philadelphia and he won't be back until eleven . . . so why did I wake up before my alarm clock could go off?'

It took his sleep-addled brain a moment or so to get through the haze, but, when it did, he leapt out of bed, a huge goofy grin on his face. Sparky and Trixie were coming home today and he had a surprise for each of them, a very special gift in mind for Trixie.

'I can't believe I forgot something this important,' he berated himself as he grabbed everything he wanted. 'Especially after all the preparations I went through yesterday.'

Yesterday had been an adventure unto itself. The easy part had been washing the Mach Five at the end of the day but the rest . . . He wanted his car to sparkle and shine, to really look its best when he asked Trixie a very important question. Speed also wanted to look his best for the love of his life and to really impress her. He had visited at least ten jewelry stores before he finally found exactly what he was looking for, five different clothing stores before finding the right shirt to compliment his brand new suit, and it was just so he could surprise Trixie once she arrived home. Once the day had finally ended, he had gone to bed, only to have sleep elude him. Speed figured he probably managed to sleep a total of four hours before he awoke again.

Within moments, Speed had showered and dressed, donning the new black suit jacket of velvet he had commissioned five days prior. The jacket had been hand-tailored from the finest black velvet, not something he would wear normally but a special occasion called for a special outfit, and the pants were fitted to his specification. Speed had even tucked a blue velvet box tucked snug into one of the pockets. It was overkill, he knew but he could not help it. Every time he thought of Trixie and imagined her reaction to his surprise, he smiled and felt jumping around like a loon. He knew that this was destined to be the happiest day of his life.

Around 9 A.M., Speed arrived at the small café he and Trixie had agreed to meet at. The last four hours had been spent rehearsing and imagining her response. His heart had been racing since the night before and his hands trembled. He had always been nervous and excited before a race but not quite like this. This was something more. What he had to say to Trixie promised to change their lives forever and in a very good way. With the box still snug in his pocket, Speed fidgeted with the napkin, folding and refolding it until Trixie finally arrived.

He smiled when he saw her, noting that they had dressed rather similarly. She wore a tight-fitting black dress, and it accented every inch of her body. The mere sight of her stole his breath away.

"Hey, Trixie," he breathed.

"Speed," she nodded curtly as she sat down. He failed to notice that she did not smile in return. Indeed, he started talking, barely able to contain his excitement.

"I waited for you so we could order together. There's something I need to tell you and something that I want to ask . . ."

"That's nice, Speed. I have something I want to tell you, too."

"Oh? What is it?" He wanted to surprise her, but he felt he could a few minutes longer to ask her. She would not be expecting his gift or his question.

"Speed . . ." Trixie took a deep breath then blurted out, "I don't want to see you anymore. Ever."

"What?" He blinked, stunned by her statement. Surely he had not heard that right.

"I don't want to see you again," she repeated.

Speed sat there, his eyes blinking. His excitement, his happiness, his dreams . . . all had been dashed with a simple statement. A hollow void filled the pit of his stomach.

"Why?" he managed to whisper. The fiery glare she gave him made him want to shrivel up and disappear from her sight. Hell, he wanted to disappear from the face of the planet, never to be seen again. Her gaze left him feeling cold and speechless.

"Because," she hissed, "I saw you. I saw you in New York, you . . ."

"New York? But I wasn't in," he started to protest but she cut him off.

"Save it. I don't want to hear it. Take care of yourself, Speed. I hope you and that floozy have a nice life," she snarled. She then stood up and left.

The sharpness of her words sliced him to his soul. He felt himself bleeding though there were no physical wounds on his body. Why was she leaving? How could she have seen him in New York when he had been home while she vacationed in New York? What had he done to cause her to be so cold and callous that she would not even listen to him? He sat there, trying to think but his mind had gone blank yet reeled at the same time. Speed could not understand anything, and a shiver stole across his spine, traveling into his stomach. Slowly, ignoring the looks the patrons were giving him, Speed headed for the door . . .

* * *

"Speed?"

Speed looked up but barely recognized the speaker. After he had left the café, he had driven around aimlessly until he had come to a stop at the racetrack. Now he sat behind the wheel of the Mach Five, wondering where he had gone wrong with Trixie and how she could have seen him in New York when he had not been there in months. He blinked a couple of times, and his friend's form no longer looked as blurry and nondescript.

"Sparky?"

"Yeah . . ."

"What time is it?"

"Around one," came the reply.

"Oh . . . How was your trip to Philadelphia?"

The question was a forced one but he did not want to bring Sparky down with his news of Trixie leaving him. If he did, he feared he would break down and burden his friend with something no one should have to endure. He did not want to do that, even though he knew he could talk to Sparky about anything. The last thing he wanted to do was put Sparky in the middle of Trixie breaking up with him.

"Good," Sparky nodded. "What were you doing there, though? I thought you were going to stay here while Trixie and I went on vacation."

"I wasn't in Philadelphia," he stated, blinking. "I've been home, waiting for you guys to come back."

"I thought I saw you there," Sparky frowned. "At least, the guy looked like you. He was talking to another guy with a beard and they were looking under the hood of a car. They just looked so buddy-buddy, like he asked the other guy to be there . . . It made me rather mad to see that."

"It wasn't me . . ."

"Huh . . . anyway, the trip went very well. I was offered a job as head mechanic for an aspiring racer . . ."

"You were?"

Sparky nodded.

"What did you say?"

"I . . . I said I'd have to think about it but then I saw that guy and . . ."

"Oh . . ." Speed felt his chest constricting tighter and tighter until he could not breathe. His world had already started to crumble when Trixie left him and so coldly at that. Now it was crashing, and there was nothing he could to prevent it. "I see . . ."

"I'm sorry, Speed . . . if I hadn't thought it was you, I wouldn't have agreed to work with him. Maybe I can work for the both of you," he offered. "You know, be kind of freelance . . ."

How Speed managed to smile was beyond him but he did it.

"That'd be kind of tricky," he pointed out. "Not to mention counterproductive. Especially after the season ends and starts all over again. What happens if we end up racing at the same time? What would happen then? I don't want to put you in a position where you'd have to choose between me and him, you know?"

"I know," Sparky agreed. "I'll talk with him, see what I can arrange. I don't want to abandon you. You're my best bud."

"Thanks, Sparky."

Speed fell silent, resting his chin on the Mach Five's steering wheel. He knew Sparky would try his best to work for both teams, but it would prove to be counterproductive in the end. For starters, the other driver's sponsors would not allow it, and neither would Pops. A decision would have to be made by Sparky sooner or later, and he did not want to rob his best friend of what appeared to be the opportunity of a lifetime.

"You okay, Speed?"

"Hmmm?"

"You look kind of down. What's up?"

"Nothing," he answered quickly. "Everything's fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Speed nodded. Sparky did not look like he believed him but did not press the issue. Fortunately, his best friend spared him from saying anything more or from trying to convince him to practice. His heart was not into racing or into practicing. He simply did not care at that moment.

"How about we skip practice today?" Sparky suggested. "You look like you could use some rest."

Speed just nodded and paid no attention as Sparky said farewell then left. After a few moments, he started the engine . . .

* * *

The Mach Five chose the destination. All he had done was start engine, as usual. Time meant nothing as he drove. He thought he had stopped once or twice, possibly to fill up and use the bathroom, but he could not be entirely sure. All he did know was that, when he finally did reach a destination, he had parked the Mach Five somewhere and walked around until he stopped outside a huge, ornate basilica. He only knew of one basilica in the U.S. and its home was in Philadelphia.

He stared at the building as people walked by him, their business keeping them from asking him anything or saying anything. Tour trolleys drove by him, often stopping to show people the very building he gazed at with dull and lifeless eyes. All he needed was to go inside, find a way to get to the top. A quick jump and it would be over for him. Yet Speed couldn't bring himself to go inside and find his way to the top.

'There must be a reason why I'm here. But what? What is it?'

He simply did not know.


	2. Chapter 2

Speed looked up through hazy, pain-filled eyes then coughed, spitting out blood in the process. He could barely hold himself up. His entire body was on the verge of collapsing and probably would if he took another hit.

'Maybe I shouldn't walked this far,' he thought idly as two more blows fell upon him. One landed directly on his jaw and the other across his back. His body unable to take any more punishment, he collapsed to the ground.

At some point since his arrival in Philadelphia, Speed resumed wandering around with no specific purpose. His heart continued to hurt with the words Trixie had spoken to him, the final nails into their relationship's coffin. He still had not been able to figure out how his girlfriend could have seen him in New York City or how Sparky could have seen him in Philadelphia. He had been home the entire time. It was not physically possible for such a thing to happen, for him to be in three places at once. He did not believe he had an identical twin roaming the world, not unless someone physically altered his appearance to resemble Speed.

Such thoughts were only now coming to Speed, moments after the attack on him had begun, an attack he had not seen coming. Before he could comprehend what had transpired, ten men surrounded him, baseball bats and crowbars in their hands. Someone behind him struck him first, a sharp pain erupting in Speed's lower back. From that point, the attack worsened. If they were not hitting him with their weapons, they were grabbing him and hitting him, sometimes slamming him against the cold bricks of the closest building. Now they were holding him up yet again, their leader in front of him.

"No one trespasses in Black Tiger territory. Not without paying the price," the man said, striking Speed for . . . he could not even guess the number of times he had been struck, and they allowed him to hit the ground yet again.

He should have fought back from the beginning. He should have begun to fight back then but all desire to survive had fled Speed. He just lay there, gasping and wheezing, and made no move to fight back. A steel-toed boot landed on his temple and he remembered no more . . .

* * *

"Hey, Sparky."

The red-haired youth looked up at the mention of his name and saw Trixie wearing a flattering black cocktail-style dress. Her dress accentuated her body very nicely. She looked dressed to kill, and Sparky could not refrain from letting a low whistle out as she approached him.

"Damn, Trixie. Hot damn, even! You look good. I bet you'd knock Speed out, wearing a dress like that!" he exclaimed. "Did you wear that when you met Speed for breakfast? Geez, he wouldn't even be able to resist you in that dress! How did it go this morning, anyway?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Trixie scowled, folding her arms. "And I don't ever want to hear Speed's name mentioned ever again."

"What happened, Trixie?"

"I broke up with Speed," she snapped.

"What?" Sparky's jaw dropped. He had known for some time that Speed intended on proposing to Trixie. Indeed, Speed intended to use the time they were on their vacations to prepare for his proposal. Sparky knew what Speed's intentions were for his best friend had told him, but the mechanic never thought she would react like that. "Didn't you like his proposal?"

"Proposal? What proposal?" she demanded, her hands now on her hips.

"Speed told me he was going to propose to you once you got back from New York," Sparky stated. "Even told me when he was going to buy the ring and a new suit just for the occasion. Don't tell me he got so nervous he could barely talk!"

Whatever anger she had been feeling visibly disappeared from her face. Sparky wondered what had brought it on in the first place.

"He was . . . going to propose?"

Sparky nodded. "Yeah. I saw the suit he was wearing. He looked very dapper . . . " He narrowed his eyes. "If he didn't propose to you, why did you break up with him?"

Her anger returned. Trixie's cheeks turned a faint shade of red, and she appeared ready to rip someone into a thousand shreds.

"Because I saw him in New York!" she spat. "That's why! Not only that, but he was with some dark- haired floozy! He couldn't keep his hands off of her, the cheat! It was disgusting to see!"

"That's odd . . . I thought I saw him talking to some guy in Philadelphia," Sparky commented. "They were looking underneath the hood of a truck, but he told me he'd been home while we were gone."

"And you believed him?" Trixie scoffed.

"Well, yeah. Why wouldn't I believe him?" Sparky asked, confused. He knew Trixie possessed a jealous bone where Speed was concerned, but he never thought it would get the better of her to the point where she would call off their relationship.

"Typical," she snorted. Now Sparky grew angry. He could not believe she was behaving in such a childish manner. Of the two of them, she probably knew Speed the best. If he intended to end their relationship, he would not take off to a city where she would be vacationing just to start an affair with another girl. The way Sparky saw it, if Speed wanted to end their relationship, he would flat out say it to Trixie, instead of buying new clothes and an engagement ring.

"He is my best friend, you know," he snapped. "He's never once lied to me or to you, and I doubt he'd start to now. He has no reason to do so."

"You don't know that," Trixie shot back. "You don't know what he's capable of doing when he sets his mind on something."

"Yes, I do know that he wouldn't lie to us," Sparky retorted. "I also know this. Speed is crazy about you. Always has been so you tell me why would he be sneaking off to New York to kiss and be with some other girl when all he has ever done is talk and dream about you? I know he's dreamt of you because he's told me! I can't believe you wouldn't give the benefit of the doubt! What is wrong with you?"

Before she could answer, Sparky stalked off, a dark cloud hanging over him. Now he knew why Speed had looked glum earlier. Trixie had jumped to the same conclusion that he had, only he had given Speed the benefit of the doubt. Trixie had not, and, because she had not, she had ended their relationship. The news had to devastate Speed, and now Sparky wished he had not called off that practice session with his friend.

'Poor guy. Probably didn't even get a chance to propose or to show her the ring. I better go see how he's doing. Hopefully he hasn't done anything too completely stupid.'

Sparky headed for the Racer home, his anger at Trixie growing slightly. How could she have not given Speed a chance to explain? They had known each other since they were five! She should have known! Okay, so every now and then Speed became flustered whenever he met a pretty girl. Despite the fact he was a generally outgoing guy, Speed found himself at a loss of what to do when introduced to a pretty girl. He confessed as much to Sparky one night when they had gotten together for pizza and a movie. Speed's self-confidence slipped away, and he basically became "dumb" when trying to speak to a girl. Trixie was the only girl who invoked his confidence. Because she invoked that confidence in him, Speed felt he could love no other girl the way he loved Trixie.

"Hello, Sparky," Mom Racer greeted as she opened the door. In his anger, he had not realized he had arrived and knocked on the door. Apparently, he had knocked rather angrily for she asked, "Is everything all right?"

"Hey, Mrs. Racer. I'd like to talk to Speed . . ."

"He's not home," the Racer matriarch frowned. "You mean he isn't with you? He told me he had something for you, and I thought he had practice today . . ."

"He did, but he looked a little worn out," Sparky quickly explained. "I suggested he get some rest then left." He did not want to be the first one to tell Mrs. Racer that Trixie and her son had broken up.

'Not my place,' he told himself, noting the pale look on Mrs. Racer's face.

"Are you going to be okay, Mrs. Racer?"

"Just fine," she murmured. "Come on in, Sparky. I need to make a phone call."

He stepped inside as Mrs. Racer made her way to the phone. She looked worried, in Sparky's opinion. It was as if she knew something was wrong with her son, which did not surprise the mechanic. From what he saw of Speed's relationship with his mother, the two were close, more so than what Rex and Spritle were. It made sense she would sense something wrong with her son. Little did they know Speed was no longer in the area.

* * *

Their work was done, Philip thought with mild satisfaction as he gazed at the prone form on the ground. Blood pooled from the young man's mouth and nose, and his eyes were undoubtedly swollen shut, and he struggled to keep breathing. There were many cuts and bruises to his entire body, thanks to the beating he and his gang delivered to the young man. If he were to ever regain consciousness, he would know better than to walk into Black Tiger territory, showing off his blue eyes, ever again. Philip despised almost anyone with blue eyes; some women were the only exceptions to his rule, and only because they were actually girls under the age of fifteen and not women. Granted, it was not the fault of those who were born with their eyes blue. Philip knew as much, just as he knew it was not his fault his eyes were brown, but it still did not stop him from loathing anyone with blue eyes. There was something about that particular eye colour that just drew people to that individual the same way a fly was drawn to honey. He walked over to the young man.

"I'd like to say it was nothing personal," he said, kneeling next to the young man. He pulled out a long, wide-bladed knife, "but it would be a lie. And my mama taught me to never lie. The truth is, I just didn't like you, you and your pretty blue eyes."

He pressed the flat of the blade against his victim's throat. Something about this young man had unnerved Philip, the way he stared with lifeless eyes as he and boys delivered the beating of a lifetime. It was almost as if he did not care if he lived, and the thought disturbed the gang leader. The idea disturbed him so much he ordered his boys to not search the young man's pockets. Chances were he had no money on his person and certainly no valuables. There was no need to loot someone who had nothing.

"I hope this becomes a lesson to you," Philip continued. "I could have my boys rob you, but I don't think you have anything we want, if you have anything at all."

He stared a moment longer at his victim, hearing sirens in the distance. They were drawing closer to his location, which meant someone had called the cops. He immediately withdrew his blade from his victim's neck and rose to his feet, smirking the entire time.

"Here's hoping, you blue-eyed freak, that we never meet again."

With a final kick to his victim's stomach, Philip ran off, disappearing down the alley.


	3. Chapter 3

"I see . . . Are you sure, Inspector?" A sigh escaped from Mrs. Racer. "I understand . . . Thank you, Inspector. I'll be sure to call you if he shows up at home. Bye."

Sparky watched as she hung up the phone, tears welling up in her eyes. For five or six hours, they had waited for Speed to return home or to at least call and let his family know of his whereabouts. She had already asked if Speed would be over at Trixie's, to which Sparky had had to answer 'no,' though Sparky had yet to tell her why he knew Speed would not be with his now ex-girlfriend. Her expression became more and more worried as he spoke. It was after he had said there was absolutely no way Speed was with Trixie that she finally made the call to Inspector Detector. Now he hoped, even if seemed futile, that someone knew something about his best friend and his whereabouts.

"What did Inspector Detector say, Mrs. Racer?"

"There isn't much they can do right now. He has to be missing for at least twenty-four hours before they can begin to search and even then there isn't much they can do. He's over eighteen and therefore able to go wherever he wants." A ragged sigh escaped her.

Sparky's hopeful expression fell.

"However, since it is unlikely that Speed would just take off without notifying someone, he's going to have his officers keep an eye out for him. I don't get it, Sparky. If he has taken off, why would he? He's got so much going for him here."

"I don't know, Mrs. Racer," Sparky replied, not meeting her gaze. He knew why Speed might have left without saying anything. Then again, Speed could have gone out for a drive to think things out and not truly disappeared as he seemed to have done.

'Maybe that's what he's done,' Sparky told himself. 'He's gone out for a drive to clear his head, and he'll be back any moment. I just hope nothing happens to him while he's gone.'

"Are you sure he's not with Trixie?" Mrs. Racer inquired.

"I'm sure," Sparky nodded, his heart sinking into his stomach. "I'm very sure."

* * *

Trixie heaved a sigh as she unlocked her apartment door. Too much had happened in a short amount of time. Her trip to New York had been entirely a pleasure trip. Shopping had been on her mind and shop she had. If Speed had been with her, he would have been flabbergasted at how much she had purchased.

'Stop thinking about him,' she scolded herself. 'Remember what you and Taylor saw?'

What she and Taylor had seen was a young man with dark hair and blue eyes who looked very much like Speed kissing a girl with long dark hair and a very slender body. This young man even slid his hands down to her butt and held her close, and they were undeniably enjoying each other's company. Taylor had called her a toothpick but Trixie could not get over the fact that it was Speed kissing that girl. She had been certain of it, certain to the point where she felt sick to her stomach . . . until she ran into Sparky. Now doubt nibbled at her. She could not get over hearing that Speed had intended to propose to her. He certainly had looked the part, and he looked very handsome in that suit as well. She did not, however, recall seeing a ring in his hand or a box holding the ring, and she wondered if what Sparky had told her was true. Maybe he had it hidden, waiting for the right time? Still, she would not be able to erase what she saw from her mind. The young man's resemblance to Speed was simply too uncanny.

As she set her keys on the table, her phone rang. For a moment, she considered ignoring it. After talking with Sparky, she felt like being alone so she could figure out her next move. For all she knew, it was Speed on the other end, wanting to talk to her, to explain himself or feed her whatever excuse he wanted. Confusion and doubt cluttered her mind. However, she picked up on the third ring. If Speed was calling her, she could always hang up on him, especially if he said something she did not like.

"Hello?"

i"Hey, there! How's it going? How was your flight to good ol' Farmington Hills?"/i a light tenor asked teasingly. Trixie smiled faintly when she heard her friend's voice on the other end. It lifted her spirits, if only a little, to hear at least once voice from a person she trusted.

"Hey, Taylor. My flight was fine. Beats driving for fifteen hours or so."

 _"That's good, that's good . . . How is everything else going, though? I know you were going to confront Speed today,"_ he said.

"Well . . . I did see him . . ."

 _"And? What happened? What did he have to say?"_

"I broke up with him immediately. He said he had something he wanted to ask me, but I never gave him a chance. He wanted to know why I was leaving him," Trixie murmured. "He looked so surprise, like he hadn't been expecting that."

 _"I'll bet he wasn't expecting it,"_ Taylor stated dryly. i"Just like he probably wasn't expecting you to catch him. Guys like Greg Racer just don't know how to appreciate strong and intelligent, not to mention beautiful, women like you. Anyway, you did what you had to do. You're a strong and intelligent girl. If he's going to cheat on you, he doesn't deserve you. You're better off without him. Trust me on that, okay?"

Trixie smiled, if only to herself, as she listened to her friend speak. Taylor had always seemed to know what to say to her to cheer her up. They had known each other for a long time, longer than she had known Speed since their fathers were very good friends, and she was grateful that he was standing by her and her decision. Still, that tiny, little doubt nipped at her.

"Taylor, are we sure it was Speed that was kissing that girl?"

 _"Who else could it have been, Trixie? It's not possible for someone to have a twin and not know about it. What? Did he try denying that he was in New York?"_

"He started to but I never gave him a chance to say anything about it before I left. . . Maybe I should give him a chance to explain . . ."

 _"It's up to you, Trixie,"_ Taylor pointed out. _"I wouldn't believe him, though. He'll have had time to concoct some sort of story by now. Anything he says to you will be a lie."_

"I know, Taylor, but I still should listen to what he has to say. I feel that I owe it to him, you know? We've been through so much together."

 _"You don't owe him a thing, really. I mean, I know you two are high school sweethearts and all that . . ."_

"Were," Trixie corrected.

 _"But you don't have to give him anything anymore if you don't want to. You're a smart and beautiful young woman, Trixie. I'd hate to see you throw your life away on someone who won't appreciate you . . . And I have to go. I've got another call coming in soon from my brother and I don't want to tie the line up any longer than what I have to. He's supposed to give me some news on whether or not I'll have a mechanic should I start racing myself. I'll give you a call tomorrow to find out what's going on, okay?"_

"Yeah. I'll talk to you tomorrow, Taylor. Good night."

 _"Good night, Trixie."_

They hung up and Trixie wondered once more if she had not made a mistake in letting Speed go. she stared at her phone for a few moments before picking it up again and dialing a familiar number. It started to ring, but it did not take long for the other party to answer.

 _"Hello?"_

"Hey, Janine," Trixie said, smiling faintly. "I'm back from New York. Do . . . do you think you could come over for a while? I could really use a friend right now."

* * *

Taylor hung up his phone with a smile. He was a devilish sort of fellow, tall and lanky with green eyes and sandy blonde hair, and he possessed an odd penchant for wanting women who were already taken. Victorea Cronkhite had been one such woman. Trixie Vanderbucks was now his new focus, and he had to be honest with himself. He liked Trixie far better than he had Victorea.

'Worked out to my advantage, having her see that O'Connell kid with his girlfriend. Before I know it, she'll be in my arms as MY wife. Now all I have to do is make sure that Speed disappears. Permanently. Shouldn't take much, I would think. Couple million dollars to prevent an accident. I'm sure he'll see things my way.'

He rubbed his hands in anticipation and sauntered down the hall. Life was going to be good.

* * *

"We got someone injured over here, Sarge!"

"Someone injured? Christ, that kid's lucky to still be alive! Look at him!"

The first two of the officers gaped at the bloody body laying in a fetal on the ground, blood from his nose and mouth coagulating in a pool. The one referred to as Sarge knelt next to the young man, and he felt for a pulse. There was one, it was faint but still rapid, probably due to the struggle to keep breathing. His face was swollen and bruised, and his nose and jaw appeared to be broken. The young man's chest rose up and down sporadically in a desperate attempt to keep the oxygen flowing. They did not dare to think of what other injuries he might have obtained. For Sarge, the thoughts were depressing and not holding out in the kid's favour.

"We have an ambulance coming, Sarge!" someone called out. "Someone called for it as soon as we got the call. It'll be here in less than a minute."

"Good," the one called Sarge nodded. "In the meantime, spread out. Find out who made the anonymous call. I want to know what it is that they saw."

The officer nodded his head in affirmation and set about his orders. Sarge looked at the young man once more.

He could not have been more than twenty-years-old and dressed in a black velvet jacket, white dress shirt, and black slacks. His apparel made Sarge think 'wedding,' despite the tatters and tears in the jacket, shirt, and slacks.

"Go through his pockets, kid."

"What? Why?" The rookie looked at him in alarm.

"It's the only way we're gonna find out who he is," Sarge stated calmly. "Plus we need to find out if those bastards took anything from him. Now do it."

"Yes, sir."

'Hang in there, kid,' Sarge thought mournfully as he watched the young man gasp for air. 'We're gonna get you to safety then we'll nail those damned Black Tigers once and for all.'

* * *

"Hey, girl," Janine said as she stepped inside her friend's apartment. She and Trixie embraced quickly and as carefully as they could. With a couple of shopping bags hanging from her arms, it proved to be a little tricky, but the two women managed. "I came as quickly as I could. I thought we could use some ice cream and cheesecake, though, so I made a quick stop. I ended up buying some Cokes and cookies as well as a lot of chocolate. I wasn't sure what you wanted. I also placed an order for pizza and wings about five minutes ago to be delivered here. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," Trixie said. She took one of the bags from her friend. "In fact, ice cream and cheesecake sounds wonderful. It all sounds wonderful. What made you think to get them?"

"Well," Janine began, "when you called me, you sounded like you really needed to talk, and I know how we both can get when we start talking. We tend to eat and drink a lot when we do that."

"Thanks, Janine," Trixie said. "What did I ever do to deserve a friend like you?"

"You save my life. That's what," Janine replied, smiling. Then her expression became somber. "What's happened, hun? You look like you've lost your kitten or your best friend."

Trixie grabbed a couple of spoons and forks, and the two women moved into the main living area as they spoke. They settled around her coffee table, and she hesitated for a moment. What would Janine say when she told her that she and Speed were no longer together? How could she say it? The news would be sudden, a shock to say the least. It certainly took Sparky by surprise. Would Janine react the same way? It had hurt to see that man in New York kissing that raven-haired beauty. It still hurt, and Trixie felt the tears stinging at her eyes. For some reason, she still believed it was Speed she saw in New York. The hurt washed over her yet again

"Trixie? What is it, hun? You know you can tell me anything," Janine murmured. She reached over and placed her hands over Trixie's hands. "I'm here for you."

"I'm not even sure where to begin," she whispered. She reached for a tissue and dabbed at her eyes.

"Just start with what's bothering you. Get it off your chest," Janine encouraged. "I'm here for you. You know that, right?"

Trixie nodded, her eyes on the cheesecake. Janine's words made sense. She should start with what was bothering her. Hopefully it would ease the ache in her heart.

"I broke up with Speed," she said. "An hour after I got off my plane. We met at this little café. Oh, Janine, he looked so handsome and so happy to see me. I almost faltered when I saw him, but I had to do it." Trixie inhaled another breath. "I know it seems so sudden and unexpected, but I swear to you, Janine, I had a very good reason."

"I'm sure you did," her friend murmured. Her hands still remained grasped around Trixie's hands, and she felt warmth and understanding flowing from her friend and into her. "You would never do something without good reason, Trixie. I know you better than that."

"Thanks, Janine. It means a lot to me to hear you say that. It really does, but I'm also sure you're wondering why."

"I am," Janine conceded. "Especially since Sparky told me that Speed was going to propose to you."

"Did everyone else know that but me?" Trixie inquired.

"I think you were meant to be surprised by the proposal," Janine said with a wink. She leaned forward. "But that's not why we're here. Something must have happened for you to call it off."

"There was," Trixie agreed. "I . . . saw him in New York . . . and he was with another girl. And I do mean he was _with_ another girl. They were holding on to each other in a very romantic and sexual way, if you know what I mean."

"You sure it was him?" Janine asked. "I mean, it's kind of hard for him to be in two places at once, if you know what I mean."

"I do know," she answered. "And, believe me, I've been thinking about that. I really have. But how many guys have really dark hair and blue eyes like Speed? This person I saw looked exactly like Speed. From what I could see, he was even the same height and weight. If it wasn't Speed betraying me, then who was it?"

"I don't know," Janine said. "I really don't, but I can see this is tearing you apart. You're really hurting over this. How did Speed take you breaking up with him?"

"He was surprised, Janine. Heartbroken, even. It was like he didn't even expect it," Trixie murmured. She hesitated for a moment. Then she asked, "Do you think I acted too quickly?"

"Again, I don't know," her friend murmured. "I wasn't there when you two talked . . . do _you_ think you acted too quickly?"

"I don't know anymore," Trixie said. "Sparky wasn't happy to hear I'd broken up with Speed when I told him, but my friend Taylor seems to think I've done the right thing. It's just . . . so confusing. I'm not sure of what to do."

The two women fell silent for several minutes, taking the occasional bite of cheesecake or ice cream. The silence was broken only when the delivery guy rang the doorbell with their pizza and chicken wings only to resume for at least another ten minutes. Finally, Janine broke her silence.

"You said you broke up with Speed today?"

"Yeah . . ."

"And you're not sure of what you should do . . ."

"No." Trixie shook her head. "I'm not."

"Are you going to talk to Speed again?"

"I don't know. I mean, I told him I never wanted to see him again, but I don't know if he'll listen to that."

"Well," Janine began, "if he does come over to talk to you, listen. If you don't like what he has to say, there's nothing saying you have to take him back."

"And if he doesn't come to talk to me?"

"Give him a few days to get over the shock and approach him to talk. Tell him you need some time to think and to sort out your emotions if that's what you truly need," Janine replied. "I'm sure there's a logical explanation for why you saw someone who looked like Speed in New York. Just give him space and allow yourself the same thing. If it's truly meant to be for you and Speed, it'll just . . . happen. You know what I mean?"

"Yeah," Trixie said with a nod of her head. "I know what you mean." Then she offered her friend a smile. "Thanks, Janine. You're a real pal. You know that?"

"I try my best," Janine replied with a smile. "Now let's dig in and you can tell me more about your trip to New York. I've been wanting to know how that's gone since you left!"

Trixie giggled at her friend's enthusiasm, and she felt better for talking with Janine more than she had Sparky and Taylor. It was as if someone had lifted a semi-heavy burden from her shoulders, something Trixie knew she would be grateful for in the days to come. Seeing Speed again would not be easy, but, if it was something she needed to do, she would not back down. She would be strong that way.

* * *

'It's been one hell of a day,' Jeffrey Richmond thought to himself as he walked towards the hospital's cafeteria. His stomach rumbled at him, protesting the lack of protein and caffeine to sustain it during an emergency surgery. It would not have been so bad if the surgery had taken less than hour, but this particular case . . . well, it was not looking promising for the young man the Philadelphia P.D. brought to him. For four and a half hours, he stitched several lacerations and searched for internal bleeding in an effort to save this young man's life. According to the X-rays and an MRI, his patient suffered more than just the lacerations and the internal bleeding from his attack. Several of the young man's lower vertebrae were damaged, some of the worst of his injuries. For the next two months, he would be in traction, and it would be even longer still before his patient could walk again. It would be several more hours before Dr. Richmond could discover the extent of his patient's spinal injuries.

He reached the cafeteria and immediately poured himself a cup of coffee. The entire time he did so, Dr. Richmond could not help but reflect on the rest of his patient's injuries. His staff would need to monitor the young man at least every five minutes, thanks to the skull fracture and any swelling it could cause. Dr. Richmond could not be sure, but it appeared as if his patient had been beaten with more than just fists and boots. His patient's assailants had also cracked several of his ribs as well as breaking his nose and his jaw. If his patient stopped breathing . . . Dr. Richmond did not even want to think about what would happen to someone so young and with his entire life still before him. With his jaw already wired shut to heal, there would be no way for them to place him on a respirator. The thought he could still lose this young man scared the doctor, and he felt his hands starting to shake.

"Dear God," he whispered. "Let him live. Please, just let him live . . ."


	4. Chapter Four

'Tired. So tired. Why am I tired? What happened?'

Slowly, he opened his eyes and saw a sterile white ceiling. At least, he assumed it was a sterile white ceiling. His vision kept blurring, making it difficult for him to see anything clearly. He tried moving his head, but he found could not do so. Something metallic held it in place. It also did not help his entire body felt as stiff as a board and slightly achy as well.

"What happened? Where am I?" he whispered. His throat felt incredibly dry and his voice sounded cracked. He barely recognized it as his own.

"Hey, you're awake!" a voice exclaimed. It sounded like another man was with him. "I'll call the nurse."

"You don't have . . ." he began. He really did not want to hear any shouting. Though his companion was on the other side of the room, the other man's voice still sounded incredibly loud to him, and his ears started to ring a little.

"Don't worry. Someone should be in here soon," the voice assured. "As for your second question, you're in the hospital. Your call button is next to your right hand."

"Hospital? How . . .?"

"Don't know, kid," his companion answered, as if he had antcipated the question. "You were here when I got here. In fact, they'd just put you in this room a few days before I got here."

"How long have you been here?" His voice grew a little stronger, no longer cracking as badly, but his mouth still felt unbelievably dry. He wondered how long he had been asleep and how come he was in the hospital in the first place. Had he been ill? He did not know nor could he recall.

"Oh, about two weeks. My name's Robert Johnson. What's your name?"

He opened his mouth to say something, ready to give his name, but, the moment he did, he drew a blank. What was his name?

"You okay?"

"Yeah," he whispered weakly, trying to think of what his name could be. "What hospital am I in?"

"St. Mary's," Robert replied.

"I've never heard of it . . ."

"You're not from Philadelphia, are you?"

"I don't know."

The nurse entered the room at that moment. He only knew this because she came to his bed and he saw the burry details of her white uniform.

She had short blonde hair and blue eyes that were accented by blue and purple eye shadow. A warm smile graced her face as his vision cleared some. Her name tag read "Val."

"You're awake. This is a good sign," she said. "For a moment, we weren't sure you were going to ever wake up. I'll get the doctor."

She pressed a button on the wall then turned to go.

"Miss . . . what happened? Why am I here?" Panic tinged his voice, and his heart started to race a little. He did not want her to leave. Not just yet. Not when he had questions he needed answers to, and he knew someone out there knew something about him.

She walked over to him and rested a hand on his forehead. It felt cool on his skin, and it had a rather soothing effect on him. He drew a deep breath and let it out.

"You don't remember what happened?" she inquired softly.

He tried shaking his head 'no,' but it still would not move.

"No," he replied. "I don't.

"Oh dear . . . You were involved in a gang beating a year ago. You'd been in a coma since. You started to come out of it a little over two weeks ago."

He frowned. He was involved in a gang beating? Why did not he remember that?

"How come I don't remember that?"

"Trauma," she stated. "Some people develop amnesia when under stressful circumstances. Do you remember where you're from or anything else?"

"No . . ."

"I better get the doctor then. He needs to know this."

She exited before he could say anything more. Other than a monitor beeping softly and the TV on, the room was silent and he tried in vain to remember who he was.

* * *

Sparky wiped the sweat off of his forehead before focusing on the engine of the Shooting Star. The day after Speed had disappeared, he had called Carl Prescott, the man who had made the offer for his brother Taylor, and reneged on the contract. It had upset the other man to hear what the mechanic had to say, but Sparky did not care. All that had mattered was that he remained true to his best friend, and he had waited at the Racer home, hoping Speed would show up so he could tell him.

Speed, however, had never shown up. A day turned into a week, and then that week turned into a month. When it became apparent Speed had disappeared and had made no contact with his parents to let them know he was safe or even where he was at, Inspector Detector made finding him his top priority. It became a statewide search after that, checking every back road and hotel, and they even searched the lakes. The Mach 5, after all, was a hard car to misplace, very unforgettable, but after a year, no one had seen or heard anything about Speed. He was gone and his disappearance was starting to make the national news.

"Sparky? Are you all right?"

Sparky looked at the Masked Racer.

"Fine. Why do you ask?"

"Because you look like you're ready to rip my engine apart," he joked lightly. "I hope it hasn't bitten you or anything."

"Oh," Sparky blushed slightly. "I was just . . . thinking about Speed."

"I see. . ." the Masked Man murmured. "That's understandable. Any particular reason why?"

"I don't understand," Sparky said. "Why hasn't he tried contacting us? He's got to know by now how worried we are about him!"

"I'm sure there's a reason as to why he hasn't," Racer X stated quietly.

"Yeah. I guess you're right," Sparky sighed. He then gestured to the Shooting Star. "The car is almost in tip-top shape. Thanks for letting me take a look at her."

"No problem, Sparky. No problem."

The two men fell silent for a few moments. As he sat there, Sparky thought about his trip to Philadelphia and his seeing a possible Speed look-alike. He had told only Trixie and Speed about that but never gave out many details. It had been a passing incident and one that he felt no longer relevant. He had believed his best friend when he said he had not been in Philadelphia. However, now he was not so sure.

'I wonder if he took off for Philadelphia or New York. I don't think he'd take kindly to anyone impersonating him or anything. I just hope he hasn't gotten himself into any trouble . . .'

"Racer X, there's something I need to tell you . . ." Sparky began.

'And please forgive me for not thinking of this sooner . . . Speed, please be all right.'

* * *

"Hey, Sarge. That kid finally woke up. Dr. Richmond just called."

Sarge – an old Irish, plump, Philadelphian-born police officer – looked up from his paperwork. The young officer was not smiling. It was not a good sign, in the veteran's opinion.

"He's awake? Good. They get his name?"

"Afraid not, Sarge," his colleague replied. "He doesn't remember his name or where he's from originally. He doesn't even remember getting the beating of a lifetime."

Sarge sighed. He had been afraid something like that would happen. For the last year, he had hoped and prayed for the young man found beaten to the point of death. He prayed the young man woul live and would wake so they could get his statement. They had plenty of evidence of the kid's assailants, but no eyewitnesses to the assault had come forward with anymore information. Sarge needed the kid . . . no, the young _man_ . . . to describ his attackers, if he were able to do so. The Black Tigers would be getting away with a crime once again. The veteran police officer wanted to pull his hair out at the news or bang his head against a wall in frustration from his fellow officer's news.

"Thanks, Sal," he murmured. He raked his fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair.

"Sorry, Sarge," Sal said. He sat down on the opposite side of Sarge's desk. "I wish I had better news to give you."

"It's all right, Sal," Sarge said. "I'll give Dr. Richmond a call in a few moments. Maybe he can tell me more about Jack Jr.'s condition then. For all we know, it's only temporary, this memory loss."

"It's always possible," Sal agreed. He then rose to his feet. "I'll go talk with someone from the gang unit. See if anyone's heard anything, you know? Whoever did this to this kid won't get away with it, Sarge. We can't let them."

"Thanks, Sal," Sarge said. He felt a smile touch his features. "You're right." He thumped his hand onto his desk. "You're right. We won't let them get away with this."

* * *

 _Four months before . . ._

"Trixie, I've been thinking and there's something I want to ask you."

Taylor glanced at the young woman staring out his apartment window. It possessed a wonderful view of the Philadelphia city skyline, one of the many things his girlfriend enjoyed when she came from Farmington Hills to visit him.

And Trixie Vanderbucks was now his girlfriend. He had asked her to start dating him two weeks after her first boyfriend, Gregory "Speed" Racer disappeared without a trace, and she accepted. From that point, he did everything he could to make Trixie happy and to forget about her former beau. He took her dancing to the best places in both Philadelphia and Farmington Hills and to the best restaurants. There were even romantic weekends at Myrtle Beach and the Hamptons, crazy insane shopping trips in New York City and Paris, and simple times in front of a fireplace, glasses of wine to warm their bodies.

At first, Taylor did not dare to be too hopeful about what Trixie was telling him when she first mentioned Speed leaving. She wanted to wait and see if the racecar champion would return, to allow him to "explain" things as it were, and maybe even give Racer a second chance at their relationship. Trixie intended to wait in Farmington Hills, to wait for Speed to return so they could talk. She felt she owed it to him, after all.

Scared he would lose the woman he truly wanted in his life, Taylor hired a private investigator to seek out Speed Racer's whereabouts. He intended to make sure Speed stayed gone for as long as he possibly could, maybe even for the rest of Trixie's life. Fortunately for him, the private investigator never questioned and never discovered Taylor's reasons. He simply did as he was told and collected his pay at the end.

And, in the end, the investigator found nothing on Speed's whereabouts or his activities. If the younger man was living anywhere or holding a job in Michigan, it was without the aid of his social security number and his driver's license. There were still many places that hired people under the table. Either way, Taylor did not care. So long as Speed stayed gone, he would pursue the woman of his dreams and pursue her he did. He walked over to where Trixie stood, pulling a medium-sized jewelry box from his pocket, and he wrapped his arms around her petite waist.

"What's that, Taylor?" she asked. Taylor held the box up and opened it, revealing a fourteen karat gold ring. In the ring's center rested a large diamond with two smaller diamonds on the sides. They were among the best diamonds money could buy.

"Will you marry me?" he asked.


	5. Chapter Five

Mom Racer stood at her stove, staring at an empty frying pan resting there. Tears welled up in her eyes – she had long since lost track of the number of times she cried – and sighed. Quickly, she picked up the frying pan and put it away. She had been ready to fix one of Speed's favourite meals, as if he were going to walk through her door at any moment and ask her when dinner would be ready. It was something he would not be doing, something he had not done for some time, and each time she found herself preparing something he truly liked, she felt her heart breaking each time.

One year. One horribly long year since her middle son had disappeared and no one had heard a thing. She never thought she would have to live through another moment like this again. She never wanted to live through another son leaving her again.

"Oh, my darling son, where are you?" she whispered as she sank into a chair. Rex running away when Speed was twelve* had been bad enough. They at least knew why he had taken off, to become a better driver, but Speed disappearing . . . It had been more than what she could handle, and she buried her face into her hands, the tears forming for the uncountable time.

Mrs. Racer had not handled her second son's disappearance well. She barely ate or slept. Each time she prepared a meal, she wanted to fix a meal her middle son loved, ready to welcome him back home as if nothing had gone wrong. When she did sleep, she usually cried herself into that state and she kept asking herself, "Why? Why did my son leave?"

At first, she did not want to believe Sparky when he had told her that Speed was not with Trixie. Something had happened between the two of them and Sparky knew it. She had sensed it. When Sparky had asked if he could stay over that night, she had readily agreed. While he went to his apartment, she called Trixie and learned the truth. The one girl Speed had loved the most, next to her, had broken his heart, but she had been truly dismayed to hear that Speed had vanished. Unfortunately, Trixie stopped calling after a while, moving on with another man as her boyfriend.

As she sat in her chair, Mrs. Racer started sobbing quietly. She could not hold them back. She never could. Her hope of Speed ever returning home faded with each passing day, and it left her feeling sick in both her stomach and in her heart.

"Mrs. Racer? Are you going to be all right?"

The Racer matriarch looked up to see Racer X, a man whom her son had admired both as a professional racer and as a friend, standing in front of her. Sparky stood next to him. Both men were concerned to be seeing her crying. Sparky even reached for her. Seeing him broke her heart even more. Something was wrong with Speed, she knew. Even if he would not contact his parents, there was no way he would not stay in touch with his best friend. Speed and Sparky lived through a lot together. It was not something a person forgot.

'No sense in denying it.,' she thought. 'They can obviously see that I'm not all right.'

"No," she whispered. "I'm not going to be all right. Two of my sons have disappeared on me. It was bad enough when Rex left home but now Speed is gone. How am I supposed to be all right?"

The next thing she knew, Racer X was the one giving her a hug. She could not help herself. Speed had been the only one of her sons to hug her constantly and such a gesture reminded her of him. She broke down and started crying in earnest.

* * *

'I never knew my leaving had affected her that badly,' Rex thought as he held his mother. 'I had worried more about how it affected Speed than her. He was so young at the time.'

He waited for her crying to subside. He really could not deny her the right to cry. His younger brother was missing and no reason for disappearing as he had. At least, Rex could not understand why Speed would leave without contacting their parents at some point or another. His argument had not been with Pops, like Rex's argument had been, but his heart had been broken by Trixie. Eventually, her sobs faded and her tears stopped flowing. She breathed heavily as she leaned against him, too worn out to do much else.

"Mrs. Racer . . ."

'Damn, it still feels odd saying that.'

"I'm going to do whatever it takes to find Speed," he said. "In fact, I think I may have an idea as to where he may have gone."

"Oh?" She looked at him, her face a cross of hope and sadness. It was the first time in a year hope had touched her features. Rex knew. He had stayed close to home to assist in the search for his brother.

"He may have gone to New York or Philadelphia," Sparky piped in. "Trixie and I thought we saw him there when we were on our vacations. He says he wasn't there when we were."

"He wasn't there," his mother said. "He was here the entire time. Is that why Trixie broke up with my son?"

Rex nodded.

"According to Sparky, that's what she's admitted," Rex answered. "I've already told Pops and Inspector Detector about what Sparky saw."

"So my son could be in Philadelphia? Or New York?"

It was Sparky's turn to nod.

"We're leaning more towards New York because Trixie said the guy she saw was kissing another girl was there," Rex explained. "But Philadelphia is closer so we're heading there first. Inspector Detector is making the arrangements with the Philadelphia police department now. We'll call you to let you know . . ."

"No," she interjected. "I'm going with you."

"Mrs. Racer . . ."

"I don't intend to argue with anyone about this, Racer X," she declared. "He's my son as well. I will not stay here another moment if there's a chance I can see him."

"Our first stop is going to be the morgues," he pointed out. He really did not relish the idea of his mother possibly seeing Speed's dead body. They were assuming the worst, after all. "He could be dead for all we know."

"And receive a phone call in the middle of the night to hear just that? No," she said as she shook her head. "I need to see him for myself. I'm going."

Rex knew better than to argue with her. He had lost many arguments to her before when he had lived at home, especially when the arguments had concerned his younger brother and whether or not Speed should head to the track with he and Pops.

'I should try and protest one more time . . .'

The look in her eyes told him it would be fruitless. Rex nodded. "Very well. Be ready to leave when Inspector Detector calls."

"Don't worry. I will be."

With that, she got up and walked out of the kitchen, looking better than what she had when they first came in the house. Rex let out a soft sigh.

"This has been really hard on her," Sparky commented. "Speed was always the good son. He never rebelled or anything."

"I can only imagine," Rex murmured, well aware of how Speed behaved after he left home, and he believed one of the reasons why. She had just walked out of the room.

'Please, Speed, be all right, wherever you are. Don't break her heart more than what it already has been.'

* * *

Sarge crushed out his cigarette before heading into the hospital. Though the young man did not remember his attack or who he was for that matter, he still felt a need to talk to the young man. He had been working the case for the past year, even dubbed this John Doe as Jack, Jr. He could not let this young man down.

Sarge's real name was Jack Gilligan Mahoney and he had been on the Philadelphia police force for thirty years. A devout Catholic, Jack took nearly everything seriously, including making his wife and daughters happy. He often thought of how lucky he was to have such a beautiful wife and daughters but always felt that something had been missing in his life. Jack and his wife had had five children but none of them were sons.

'Maybe that's why I dubbed this kid Jack, Jr.,' he mused as he walked into the hospital. 'Wishful thinking on my part.'

The truth had been very simple, however. He wanted this young man to be known as more than John Doe. John Doe was reserved for those who would never be identified, and he wanted this kid to at least have some kind of a name should he have died.

Sarge reached the room the young man had been staying in for the past year. Someone had scratched out "John Doe" on the wall plate and written in, "Jack, Jr." He chuckled when he saw that. Sarge often visited when he could, hoping that, when he did, it would be the day the young man woke up. He stepped into the room.

The first bed was temporarily empty but still boasted an occupant. Hot rod, surfing, and art magazines lay at the foot of the bed. At least Jack Jr. was not alone, and that left Sarge feeling better. However, his destination was the bed by the window, hidden by the privacy curtain. Cautiously, Sarge peered around it then muttered a curse. Jack, Jr. was fast asleep! Then he let out a laugh, relief washing over him. The young man's colour was better than it had been in weeks. His cheeks were a faint pink, and he was not hooked to a respirator or an oxygen machine. In fact, his breathing was even and steady. He was not struggling like he had that horrid night in the alley. The only thing Sarge did not like was the sight of the backbrace holding the young man in place. It was still a gruesome reminder of what happened to Jack Jr., of everything that had been stolen from him that night.

'At least I know he's awake now. I'll just have to stop by tomorrow. Better get home before the wife kills me.' Taking one last glance at the sleeping young man, Sarge crept out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * - Speed and Rex are six years apart in age. I looked it up at speedracer.com. XD


	6. Chapter Six

Sarge Mahoney whistled as he walked to his desk, carrying a dish of roasted beef and potatoes fixed by his wife. Today was going to be a very good day. He felt it in his bones. Now he just needed to find the time to go up to the hospital to visit Jack, Jr., and find out more about how little the young man remembered.

"Hey, Sarge! You've got some visitors," someone said as he walked by. "They're at your desk right now. Chief says you're to help them out as much as possible."

"What's their story, Sal?" he asked, slowing down some. His chipper mood had not dimmed any.

"Missing person's case," Sal replied, rubbing his dark eyes. "Kid took off a year ago and parents haven't heard from him since."

"How old?" Sarge shrugged off his jacket and tossed it over his shoulder.

"Around twenty now. Really not much we can do but the parents want us to try and at least see if he came through last year. They say he's got a very unique car he drives."

Sarge snorted. Like that would be an easy job!

"Anyway, they're waiting for you at your desk. And good luck with Jack, Jr."

The older officer just smiled as he made his way to his desk. Everyone knew that he had a soft spot for that kid. As Sal had predicted, the parents of the missing young man stood by his desk, along with an out-of-state officer. Sarge recognized the officer as Inspector Detector.

'This is going to be one helluva day,' Sarge thought as he approached them.

* * *

"It was right around here," Sparky said, pointing to the Bank Street Court complex. "They were looking underneath the hood of a truck, an old Ford Ranger if I remember correctly."

Racer X nodded as they stood on the opposite side of the street and plotted his next course of action. While his parents and Inspector Detector were at the police station, enlisting the aid of one Sergeant Mahoney, he and Sparky had decided to check out where the look-alike had been seen. Now the trick was to figure out whether or not the look-alike lived here and, if he did, which apartment he lived in.

"Is there anything else you remember about that day, Sparky?"

The Go Team mechanic's face scrunched up in thought. Rex waited patiently for him to say something.

"Yeah . . . there was a blonde-haired lady sitting in front of the building, watching them. She had blue and purple streaks in her hair and, when they were done looking under the hood of the truck, she kissed the guy that looked like Speed. She was quite sexy, too."

Rex nodded. "Did you tell Speed that part?"

"No," Sparky shook his head. "I only saw that when I did the double-take but paid no attention to that."

"How did she kiss him?"

"On the cheek, like she was grateful about something. That was when Mr. Prescott's car turned the corner and I didn't see anything else after that."

'It isn't much to go on,' he thought, 'but it's better than nothing. Maybe I can find out who the woman is. Given the dyed streaks in her hair, the owners can at least tell me who she is. But not now. Not with Sparky here. Better take him back to the hotel.'

"Let's go, Sparky."

"Are we going to tell Inspector Detector and that Sergeant Mahoney about this?"

Racer X nodded as they climbed into the car. What Sparky didn't know would not hurt him.

* * *

His stomach growled at the smell of food but he could not eat. He could not even drink. Despite the appealing aroma of the food and the fact they removed a feeding tube from his stomach, it looked horrible and tasted even worse, something the nursing assistant did not seem to understand.

"Come on, sweetie," she purred. "Take a bite for me. Please? It's good stuff."

A strange sound emanated from the other side of the room, like his roommate had choked on something. She turned her head to glare at the offending noisemaker.

"Robert Johnson, that's enough! He doesn't need any encouragement from you!"

To that, Robert Johnson laughed out loud.

"Oh, please, Marissa! You and I both know that pudding-thick liquids do not satisfy one's thirst and pureed food is not that delicious! Poor guy probably wants some real food and drink, don't you?"

He nodded as best he could. He still did not know why he couldn't move his head around much, though he was certain something was holding him in place. He felt the metal along his back. Marissa sighed.

"Look, I can't help it. This is what the doctor's ordered for now. Pureed and mechanical soft foods. That's it. Can't do anything about it until they do a swallow test and that won't be until tomorrow. He has been in a coma for a year, you know." She turned her attention back to him, her cheeks red from frustration. He felt sorry for her but he couldn't help it. He simply was not hungry enough to eat, and that made her job a little more difficult. "Now . . . let's take a bite . . ."

Shaking his head 'no,' he clamped his jaw tighter. He wanted to feed himself but, because his arms had been inactive for a long period of time, he suffered from severe atrophy. He could not even lift his arm up and keep it up, let alone a spoon.

Marissa sighed and tossed the spoon onto the plate.

"They're going to stick an I.V. in you if you don't eat or drink, you know. Maybe even put the feeding tube back"

He shrugged in response. She sighed once more.

"I give up." She picked up the tray and stalked out. A sigh escaped him.

"You really should try eating something . . ."

"I know, Robert . . . but every time I do, I feel like puking."

That brought a chuckle out of Robert.

"Yeah . . . Disgusting, isn't it? People in prison eat better than people in hospitals."

"That is bad," he agreed, his eyelids drooping slightly. In spite of being in a coma for a year, he still tired easily. As he drifted off to dreamland, he wondered if he would ever have the strength to do anything beyond sleeping or if he would ever remember who he was.

* * *

Pops Racer looked at the officer who drove them to Bank Street. The man looked vastly irritated but he did not care. He wanted to find this look- alike more than anything, hoping he would be able to tell them what had happened to his son. When the shock of hearing about look-alikes wore off, Speed would have confronted them. Pops knew it as sure as he had built the Mach 5, and it would not be a pretty picture in the end. What he wanted, though, was to find his son alive and well. If anything, the look-alike could confirm whether or not Speed confronted him. After that, they were going to the morgues and looking for burials of young men matching Speed's description.

"You sure this is the place, kid?"

Pops blinked as the car came to a stop and Sergeant Mahoney addressed Sparky. Sparky nodded.

"This is the place."

"All right." He climbed out of the car and they had to hurry to catch up with him. Pops did not even pay any attention to the building or its interior as they made their way to the fifth floor, where the young woman resided.

They had learned that her name was Victorea Cronkhite and that she had resided at Bank Street Court for several years. The landlord had called her eccentric. Pops thought that any thirty-something dying her hair blue and purple would have to be eccentric.

Sergeant Mahoney knocked on the door and Pops noticed his wife holding her breath. One year. One year and they were coming a little closer to finding some answers and, hopefully, their son. He took her hand in his and squeezed it. Sparky's face lit up with excitement. Sergeant Mahoney, Inspector Detector, and Racer X were the only unreadable expressions.

A dog started barking and was joined by a few more. The sound of a lock sliding out of place greeted them.

"Who is it?"

"Sergeant Mahoney from the Philadelphia police department. We'd like to ask you a few questions, ma'am."

The door cracked open wide enough for a set of brown eyes to gaze at them. She then nodded and opened the door the rest of the way, making sure three large dogs and two little ones did not sneak out.

"Come in," she said dully. Pops noticed her eyes were red and droopy, like she had been angry or crying about something.

"This won't take long, Ms Cronkhite," Mahoney stated, as if trying to assure her. Pops felt that he should not be. "These people are looking for their son. We were hoping maybe you could help us out."

"Help out? How?" she asked, closing the door. She looked at Racer X, giving him an odd look. She kept her distance from the Masked Racer as well.

'She's nervous around him,' he thought. 'But why? She must know who he is!'

"This is the guy!" Sparky suddenly exclaimed, pointing to a picture on the wall. They crowded around it to see for themselves and, sure enough, there was a picture of a young man with dark hair and blue eyes. In his arms, he cradled a black cat, and he was smiling at the person taking his picture. "This is the guy that looks like Speed!" Even Sergeant Mahoney looked at the picture.

"What? What are you guys talking about?" Victorea Cronkhite said, sounding tired and confused.

Pops glared at her. How could she sound so dazed and tired when she was obviously dating his son's look-alike?

"This man," Mrs. Racer said, pointing to the picture. "He looks like my son. Do you know where he is? We would like to talk to him."

Tears welled up in Ms Cronkhite's eyes and she turned her head. Pops wanted to shout at her and demand what had happened, what did they do their son, but refrained. She could have him arrested and he felt Sergeant Mahoney would do it in a heartbeat.

"I know where he is," Mahoney piped in, a sad tone. "Thank you, Ms Cronkhite. Sorry to have disturbed you."

"It's okay, Sarge," she whispered, smiling weakly. Before anything more could be said, Sergeant Mahoney had ushered them out of her apartment and onto the street. Once they were in the car, Pops exploded.

"Sorry to have disturbed her!" he shouted. "She may know where my son is and you're sorry that you had to disturb her! I want to speak with that man! I want to know who he is and everything!"

"I doubt she knows where your son is. She's not the type of person who kidnaps other people. Besides, you can't speak with her fiancé, Mr. Racer," Sergeant Mahoney answered. "He died in a car crash two weeks ago."

Pops felt like he had been hit by a speeding car himself. His son's look-alike? Dead?

"His name was Ryan O'Connell," Mahoney continued. "That was his fiancé, Victorea Cronkhite. Their engagement announcement had been in the paper the day before the accident. Had I known that, I wouldn't have brought you here. Poor girl was in the truck with him that night. He never knew what hit him."

Sergeant Mahoney started the car and took off. In stunned silence, they rode away.


	7. Chapter Seven

Sparky stared mournfully out the window as Sergeant Mahoney drove back to the police station. He could not help but feel bad for the woman that they had left behind but at least he knew the truth. It had not been Speed he saw. Speed had not betrayed him and he quite possibly had not betrayed Trixie, either.

'I hope Ms Cronkhite is going to be okay,' he thought sadly. 'That's got to be a terrible thing, losing your fiancé in a car wreck. I wonder who that other guy is, though.'

"Sergeant Mahoney?" he began.

"Yeah?" Until now, the everyone in the car had been silent, each lost in their own thoughts.

"Did they have a friend who has a moustache and a goatee and likes to wear weird clothing?"

"Define weird, kid," Mahoney stated. "This is Old City we're talking about. There are all sorts of people wearing 'weird' clothing around here. Victorea Cronkhite and Ryan O'Connell were among them."

"Well, when I saw them a year ago, this guy that they were talking to was wearing this really weird shirt, like something you'd find at one of those medieval festivals."

"You mean like a poet's shirt?"

"Yeah," Sparky nodded.

"Then the man you just described would be Robert Johnson, a very good friend of theirs. Guy kind of reminds me of Will Riker from Star Trek, The Next Generation." Mahoney chuckled at his own little joke.

"Where's he at?" Sparky inquired, feeling a little more excited now. He really wanted to meet this guy and find out what he could about Ryan O'Connell. If anyone would know and not have a crying fit when talking, it would be this Robert Johnson. Maybe Speed had come to Philadelphia and talked to Ryan and Robert. If he had, then it was possible Robert could tell them something about where Speed could have gone.

"He's at St. Mary's, recuperating."

"Why's he there?" Racer X asked. He, too, was rather curious.

"Would you believe the same car crash that killed Ryan O'Connell?"

* * *

"All right, here we go. Just one more liquid."

Jack, Jr. sighed. At some point, he adopted the moniker from the staff, though he felt certain Jack was not his real name. He thought there were a million other things he would like to be doing . . . if he could only remember what he liked to do. His doctor, Dr. Richmond, watched as a speech therapist held a straw to his lips, and he reluctantly took a drink. The water flowed down his throat easily and he was tempted to drink the entire thing. The speech therapist, however, took the drink away before he could take in too much then watched him. After a few moments, when he did not cough or choke on the liquid, Dr. Richmond nodded and wrote something down on a clipboard.

"Very good," he stated. "Glad to see this." To the speech therapist, he said, "Thank you," and the woman left, taking the other liquids with her. "Do you have any questions for me?"

"Why didn't you do this before?" he asked.

"You could barely stay awake yesterday. Remember, you did just wake up from a coma," the doctor pointed out, scribbling something on a clipboard.

"If I've been asleep for an entire year, why do I feel so sleepy then?"

Dr. Richmond stood up and shrugged.

"Could be a number of reasons, really. You haven't moved around much during that time so any little exertion could wear you out. Not eating, not getting enough fluids . . . all of those can contribute to how . . . lively you feel."

"Oh . . ." He hated how disappointed he sounded.

"Don't worry," Dr. Richmond smiled. "You'll be staying awake longer before you know it, especially when you start eating more and when you start your physical therapy."

He made a face, causing the good doctor to laugh. Dr. Richmond had still concluded he needed the pureed and mechanical soft diet, though they would slowly and eventually start to integrate more solid foods.

"I'll be sure to add soups to the list. Any luck in remembering anything?"

He sighed.

"No . . . I don't get it. Why don't I remember anything? It's driving me crazy."

"Hey, don't push yourself too hard, kid," Dr. Richmond told him. "You just woke up. You can't expect everything to happen in a day. It's going to take a lot of hard work to get you back to where you were before. A lot of hard work and a lot of time. You're lucky to be alive."

"I know . . . Dr. Richmond?"

"Yeah?" The doctor paused in his writing and looked at him.

"Why can't I move my neck or my head? I can feel something holding me in place but I don't know what it is."

"No one's told you?"

"No . . . I've been meaning to ask but I keep forgetting."

"Understandable . . ." Dr. Richmond paused. "You're wearing a back brace. It goes from the base of your skull all the way down to your waist."

"A back brace?"

He nodded. "Yes. A back brace. It keeps you from moving around too much, and it's the only thing we haven't removed yet. Your spine hasn't fully healed, and I'm not ready to remove that support right away. I want to be sure you're physically ready."

"From the . . . incident?"

"Yes. From the incident. You were pretty bad when you came in. For a while, I wasn't even sure you'd make it. I've never seen anyone take a beating like that and still live."

"What happened to my back?" He wanted to push himself up and listen further. Dr. Richmond had his attention.

"Several of your vertebrae were damaged in the beating. The punks probably used a baseball bat or a crow bar to hit you with, among other things. You came in with a fractured skull, a broken nose and jaw, cracked ribs, and broken bones all over. Like I said, I wasn't even sure you'd make it. I was afraid what would happen if we needed to put you on a respirator."

He sighed rather raggedly. From the sounds of it, he should not have even lived. Yet, here he was, very much alive and wondering who the hell he was.

"Will I be able to do everything I did before?"

"With a lot of luck and hard work, yes," Dr. Richmond nodded. "But it is all up to you, my friend. Just don't be racing all around the countryside or joining any demolition derbies. I'm not entirely sure your body will be able to handle that . . . and I have another patient to see so I'll get out of your hair. Just get some more rest and one of the girls will be in shortly to help you."

"Okay." He would have nodded but the brace around his neck held him firmly in place. Dr. Richmond, leaving him alone with his own musings.

As he lay there, his eyes slowly drifted shut. Images began to dance behind his eyelids. Confetti and streamers floating around him . . . he held a trophy . . . There was a flash of white . . .

His eyes flew open and he started labouring for breath. He knew those images. He had lived them. He just knew it. He just could not remember from where he knew them.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," someone joked. It was Robert. The older man seemed to always be on the lookout for him. "You okay?"

"I . . . yeah . . . I'm okay, Robert. I'm okay."

"What happened? You were sound asleep then you just woke up."

By now Robert had hobbled over to his bed and sat next to him, his brown eyes glowing with concern. He took a deep breath.

"I must have been dreaming . . ."

"About what?" Robert inquired, curious.

"I don't know . . . all I could remember was confetti and streamers everywhere . . . and a trophy of some kind . . ."

"Sounds like you're starting to remember."

"Yeah . . . sounds like it."

He sighed to himself and Robert hopped back to his bed. For a while, they remained in silence, the rustling of a magazine coming from Robert's side of the room.

"Robert?"

"Yeah?"

"Why are you here?"

"Because of some drunken asshole." Robert's tone held a bitter quality.

"Oh . . . I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You weren't the drunken asshole who hit my best friend's truck."

"Was it only you in that truck?"

"Afraid not, kiddo. Afraid not."

* * *

Mrs. Racer looked at the picture she held in her hand. It was of her son, Speed, when he was around five years old and tormenting his older brother, Rex. She had brought it along to help her to remember the fun times they had all shared, before things had changed. Looking at it caused a lump to form in her throat and she sighed raggedly.

"It's okay, dear. We'll find him," Pops assured her as they drove to the hospital. He reached over and grasped her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. In the back sat Inspector Detector, Racer X, and Sparky. Sergeant Mahoney recognized Speed's photo, knowing him from the world of racing, but also saying he thought her son resembled a young man admitted to one of the local hospitals within the last year. He could not be sure, however, given how many he saw on a daily basis. His words were like a dagger stabbing into her heart, nearly robbing her of her hope at the same time they tried to renew her hope. It was simply becoming too much for her to bear.

"I know," she whispered. "I know."

"What have you got there, Mrs. Racer?"

"Just an old picture, Racer X. Just an old picture."

"May I see?"

She handed the picture back to him without a word. Her nightmare had endured long enough. She just wanted it to end.

* * *

Rex fought back a sigh and a choke as he looked at the picture. He had not been aware that a camera had been on them at that particular moment. But he remembered it and remembered it clearly.

Speed had been five years old and had just found a mud puddle. Like all five year olds, he had decided to play in it, wrecking the new suit his parents had just bought him. Pops had been fit to be tied when he saw his son covered head to toe in mud but ended laughing as he chased his older brother around, getting mud on him whenever he could. Rex smiled, even though his heart clenched as he gazed at the memory forever sealed in time. It was undoubtedly of a better time and when his family was in a better place. He found himself fighting back some tears and hoping they would find his younger brother alive and well.

"It's a very lovely picture, Mrs. Racer," he said, handing it back.

"Thank you," she murmured.

Pops pulled their rental car into the St. Mary's parking lot at that moment and parked next to a silverish-grey pickup truck. They were starting there first, mostly because Robert Johnson would soon be released, and the family wanted to talk to him about Speed possibly confronting him. They were also going to ask the administrator if there were any young men in their care that resembled Speed. Rex glanced at the truck then nearly shouted out when he saw who had climbed out. It was none other than Victorea Cronkhite!

* * *

Torie grabbed a rubber band from the floor of her truck and immediately began to twist her hair around until a makeshift bun appeared. The rubber band barely held it in place but it was good enough for her. She had no one to impress, after all.

'Not that Ryan would have cared anyway,' she thought morosely as she grabbed her Tupperware containers. 'He thought it was hilarious when I had cut it short and dyed it black.'

Torie locked and closed the door, heading for the main entrance. She did not even notice who had parked next to her until someone called out, "Ms Cronkhite!"

Looking behind her, she saw the same people that had been to her apartment earlier. 'Funny how they know my name but I still don't know theirs.' They hurried towards her.

"Can I help you?" she inquired quietly. She really did not want to be bothered. Too much was happening around her. The world kept spinning even though she wanted it to stop for a single moment.

"We thought we'd walk in with you," the man in the mask stated. "We came to see your friend, Robert Johnson."

"Why?"

"We're hoping he can tell us about our son," the woman stated. Her eyes were red and puffy. "We can't ask your fiancé about him."

'She looks like how I feel.'

"I see . . . why do you think Robert would know?"

"Because I saw your fiancé talking to him last year," some guy in a yellow shirt stated. "I thought your fiancé was my best friend, Speed Racer. We're thinking he may have come here to find out if anyone's been impersonating him for whatever reason."

"Ah ha . . . and you are?"

"Sparky Jones," he extended his hand. "And these are Speed's parents, Mr. and Mrs. Racer. The man in the mask is a colleague of Speed's, Racer X, and this is Inspector Detector."

"Hello," she nodded. "Why did you think that Ryan was your friend?"

"Because they looked very much alike," Sparky replied matter-of-factly. "Of course, I really only had a passing glance so I wasn't entirely sure. The guy showing me around the city said it was."

"Really?" She blinked a little. "Who was this guy?"

"I don't think you'd know him," Sparky began.

"Maybe. Maybe not," she shrugged. "You never know."

"True," he conceded. "Well, his name is Carl Prescott . . ."

"Carl Prescott? As in the son of Taylor Prescott the Second, Esquire?"

"Yeah! How did you . . .?"

"Let me tell you a little story about the Prescott boys," she said, walking into the hospital. They immediately fell into step with her and followed her in.


	8. Chapter 8

Trixie looked at the dress Taylor had bought for her. It was a stunning white satin gown with sequins and chiffon. It was the perfect wedding dress, the one she had always dreamed of wearing. Of course, she had always dreamed of marrying Speed, but that dream would no longer come to pass.

She ran her fingers down the length of the skirt then sighed, looking at the diamond engagement ring she now wore. The ceremony was scheduled to take place in three hours yet here she was, wishing she were getting married to Speed instead.

'Why did he have to run off and marry that Preston girl? I thought he loved me.'

Trixie stared at the photocopied newspaper article Taylor had given her, displaying a picture of the happy couple. It had angered and saddened her to see it. For a while, she had believed Sparky that Speed would not have taken off to New York to be with another woman. Her friend had spoken with such passion about her and Speed's relationship, she felt compelled to believe him. Even Janine believed Speed had loved her.

That was before Speed had disappeared without telling anyone where he was going. That was before the days passed with no word from him, and the days turned into weeks. Taylor remained at her side, supporting her as she waited so she could talk to Speed. It was also during that time she lost touch with the Racer family. She missed them, but she could did not want to share in their heartache over again. It had been bad enough when Rex left, devastating Speed and his mother. Trixie did not want to live through such a heart-breaking event ever again. Two days ago, Taylor had finally found something about Speed, and it was his marriage to Lia Preston. Trixie folded the article and tucked it away. She promised herself she would contact the Racer family the next day, to let them know Speed had finally been found. They could deal with the news of his marriage however they liked. It was no longer any of her concern, despite what the ache in her heart was telling her. A few tears threatened to spill down her cheeks, not the tears for the joyous occasion of her wedding but from the betrayal of losing Speed to another woman.

'Where did I go wrong with you, Speed? Where?'

Heaving a deep sigh and angrily shoving her tears aside, she took the gown off of its hanger and headed for the bathroom. Her husband-to-be waited, and she was bound and determined to be happy. It was her life.

* * *

Rex Racer looked at the woman who stood mere inches in front of him. He had to admit that Ryan O'Connell had been one hell of a lucky guy. Victorea possessed a fiery and animated personality. The way she talked about the Prescott boys proved it. Yet, what intrigued him the most was her appearance. For being only in her mid twenties, she had a large green, purple and blue dragon tattoo on her back, a sun and various coloured moons tattoo on her thigh, various cats linked by a vine on her left arm, and a white and blue rose floating in a lake on her right. A blue and purple yin yang adorned her right shoulder in the back and "crazy" in Japanese graphics on her left. She had admitted to recently touching up the blue and purple streaks in her hair and that she did not care what others thought of her when Pops made a comment about her appearance. The way she carried herself proved it as well. It was quite attractive to him, really.

'She isn't afraid to be herself and she doesn't care who sees it,' he thought as the realization dawned on him. 'How did Ryan ever manage with a force like her?'

He was brought out of his musings as they walked into Robert Johnson's room and by Victorea's reaction to what she saw. Her friend was sitting on his hospital bed, a white cardboard box laying on his bedside tray.

"You're eating pizza?" Her jaw hung open slightly. Robert looked slightly guilty. They knew it was Robert because the privacy curtain had been pulled, and the man in the bed by the door did somewhat resemble the actor who played Will Riker from Star Trek. He offered Torie an apologetic look but did not stop eating his pizza.

"Josie brought it for me," he explained in between two bites. "In fact, you missed her by about ten minutes. Said she had to run off for something."

"And here I actually made you something to eat." She shook her head at him. "And I know what she's up to, the pervert. You sure you don't want some of this? Like I said, I made it."

"No. Pizza's really hitting the spot," Robert replied. He then tilted his head. "Really? Like what? Maybe my roommate can have it."

"Mashed potatoes with hamburger gravy," she answered, sitting down. Rex watched the exchange in slight fascination and envy.

"Made with cream of celery soup?"

"Of course," she snorted. "What else would I use?"

"How silly of me to ask. Maybe I shouldn't have asked Josie for the pizza," Robert murmured. "And it sounds like something he can eat. He can have mechanical soft foods. I'm sure the doctor won't mind if he has that. He finally woke up!"

"I'll see if he's awake," Torie said, walking to the other side of the room then disappearing behind the curtain. Hushed murmurings were all that they could hear. Rex turned his attention to Robert Johnson.

He looked as Sparky had described him, except for the healing cuts on his face, and a leg brace and the wrist brace on his right arm. In front of him, he had a surfing magazine. Robert did not hold the appearance of a man who had recently lost a friend.

'Must be trying to stay strong, for Victorea's sake,' he reasoned. 'Guys do handle situations differently than women do.'

"Can I help you folks?" Robert asked, his eyes glancing at each of them.

"We're looking for our son, Gregory "Speed" Racer," Pops began. "We were hoping that you might be able to help us find him."

Robert gave them a questioning look and they quickly introduced themselves and explained, as they had to Victorea, about what Sparky had seen a year before. When they were done, Robert wore the same look of disgust that Victorea had.

"Typical of the Prescotts," he shook his head. "Always wanting something they can't have and trying to be sneaky and underhanded to get it anyway. Right, Tor?"

"Right," she called back.

"Will you be able to help us?" Pops asked, bringing the conversation back to the subject of Speed and his whereabouts.

"I can try . . . it's going to be tough, though. What do you need to know?"

"If he tried to contact you or your friend Ryan," the Racer matriarch said. She pulled out her picture of Speed, the one they had shown Sergeant Mahoney. Robert glanced at it, a frown creasing his eyebrows and touching upon his face.

"No . . ." he murmured. Rex watched as Robert handed the photo back to his mother. "He didn't approach us. I'd remember if a kid like him had."

"You sure?" Sparky inquired. "I thought for sure he'd look for these people who looked like him, maybe figure out why, you know?"

"Not really," the man said. "If he's a celebrity, like I'm thinking that he is, there are going to be tons of people out there imitating him."

"Why would anyone want to do that?" Mom murmured.

"It's a thrill for them," Robert replied. "A way to be recognized, I suppose. Some impersonators can make really good money that way."

"Why can't they just be themselves instead of someone else?" Pops groused. Rex refrained from replying back as he could not help but wonder how much Speed had to behave like him after he left home instead of being Speed. Oh, it was not lost on Rex how much Pops demanded perfection out of his younger brother, even before Speed started to race. In high school, Speed made the honour roll and with a straight A grade point average no less. His brother was also the youngest person in his graduating class, leaving high school at age sixteen. It took everything in his willpower to keep from lashing out at his father, if only because Pops Racer did not know his true identity.

To Pops' grousing, Robert merely shrugged. He also shifted his body a little, as if he had become a little uncomfortable. Given the other man's broken leg, Rex did not blame him for wanting to be a little more comfortable.

"Probably because our society is messed up?" he offered. "Parents want their children to be themselves yet there's always heavy pressure from within the family and from outside sources to conform to some ideal that's hardly obtainable. It's okay to be yourself so long as you fit a certain image . . . that sort of thing."

During the exchange, Rex's attention traveled from Pops to Robert and finally to his mother. The entire time, she remained silent but with tears and pain shimmering in her eyes. Her oldest and middle sons were no longer in her home. While she at least retained some hope for her oldest son being alive and well somewhere, Speed was another story entirely. He would not leave without at least contacting her, if he could. Pops had admitted as much to Rex, well, to Racer X when they were waiting for the announcement to board their plane. Speed would never hurt his mother like that. Even if he had decided to move out of the home, to leave to another place to live, Speed would always keep in touch. It was a promise made upon the day he turned eighteen, and Speed was not prone to breaking promises, especially promises to his mother. Rex looked back at Robert, hoping to get the conversation back on track.

"It's an interesting debate for another time," he stated. "However, it's not why we're here."

"You're here to find Speed Racer. As I said, I can try to help you guys out, but it is going to be tough. You know how large this city is? He could be anywhere. Philadelphia is a very large city, and not every place requires photo ID or a social security number," Robert pointed out. "If he doesn't want to be found, we may not find him. He may not even be in Philadelphia. But I'll help, if only because I hate to see a beautiful woman crying."

"Robert's right, you know. He could be anywhere," Torie piped in. "Or he could be closer than you think."

They turned their attention to her as she pulled back the privacy curtain. She wore a big grin as she did so and everyone gaped. There lay Robert's roommate of two weeks, the one they had been looking for for over a year. His younger brother, Speed.


	9. Chapter 9

Speed stared at the faces of his family and his friends, taking in as many details as he could and as quickly as he could. Each face he gazed at told him a story, from the anguish that evaporated in an instant to their expressions of happiness and tears of joy. He knew that he knew them but couldn't place faces with names. Only one person remained unreadable, and it was the man in the mask. Perhaps there was something more there, but he could not tell. They were still strangers to his mind's eye, and a part of him feared he was dreaming, that they would not be there upon waking.

"Oh, my darling," his mother whispered, kissing his forehead. She sat on the right side, next to his head, and hugged him as best she could. Her hands then clasped his right hand and held on tight. Tears streamed freely down her cheeks. He had remembered her voice, the kindness and love that it always carried and he wanted so much to be able to hug her back, despite the lack of memories.

'Thank goodness that lady was kind enough to pull the curtain back for me,' he thought. 'Don't know how I would have managed otherwise.'

On his left stood his father and a police officer. At the foot stood two other men, one wearing an orange shirt and red baseball cap, and the other wearing a black and white fire suit and mask. He had recognized their voices as well but nothing else. His entire life remained just out of reach, tantalizing yet scary. He had a million questions but wondered if it would be worth remembering at all. Finally, his father spoke.

"How long have you been in here? Have you any idea as to how worried we were?" There was a hint of annoyance in his tone and in his eyes. There was also relief, as if a thousand or more worries had melted away from him. His father fidgeted where he stood, like he wanted to come over and hug him.

Speed started to shake his head, only to have it held in place by the brace. Silently, he cursed himself for forgetting about the back and neck brace.

"No, I didn't know how worried you were," he sighed, frustrated at not being able to move. It crept into his voice, and he tried to think of some way to calm himself down. Growing angry over something he could not control would only serve to agitate him further, something he did not need to do to himself. Not in his condition, anyway. "According to the nurse and the doctor, I've been in a coma for a year."

"A coma?"

"Yeah . . ." He sighed once more. "A coma. I've been asleep all this time."

"How did you get here, Speed?" Inspector Detector inquired.

'Inspector Detector? How'd I know that?'

"I don't know," he murmured, his eyes trailing up to the ceiling. His head started to feel fuzzy, and his thoughts wanted to wander, get away from him for a few minutes. He hated how he could not tell them anything as he hated how he could not remember them. Something important had happened to him, aside from the beating he took which landed him in his current predicament. But what was it? His memories danced further and further away from his mental reach.

"Don't know?" Inspector Detector echoed.

"No. I don't know." Speed shut his eyes for a moment and attempted to refocus on his parents. At least, he tried to focus on his father. The older man's moustache quivered, as if he were holding back on something. It took him a couple of minutes to visibly calm himself – Speed watched him as he drew a deep breath as discreetly as he could and let it out – then he spoke again.

"What do you mean by that?" his father asked, his eyes narrowing. Speed sighed once more. His eyes were starting to ache.

"It means just that. I don't know," he replied.

"What happened to you, Speed?" the man in the mask inquired. "You're not acting like yourself."

"Don't know that, either."

His father looked fit to be tied at his answers but he couldn't help it. He really did not know the answers to their questions. The only one who had not asked him questions had been his mother.

"Calm down, dear. I'm sure there's a good explanation for everything," his mother soothed, relieving some of the tension that was mounting. That was when his father turned his attention to the other two occupants in the room, his roommate and his friend.

"And just how did you know to pull the curtain back?" he demanded, his tone filled with accusation. It was enough to make him flinch. A memory of his father's temper . . . blowing a gasket? . . . tickled its way into his mind.

They, however, did not flinch. Torie folded her arms and looked at him. He saw her out of the corner of his eye. She appeared to be used to this sort of behaviour.

"Because he asked me to pull the curtain back. He said you sounded familiar to him," she retorted. "Plus the fact that Sparky had said he thought my fiancé looked like his best friend. Why else would I pull back a curtain for a stranger?"

Pops turned his attention to Robert. Speed blinked as he realized what he remembered of his father. Pops. Everyone called him Pops.

'Where did that come from?'

"You know why he's here . . ."

"Only because I was here when he woke up yesterday and heard things that I shouldn't have heard so if you're looking for answers . . . call the doctor. It's his place to tell you, not mine. Besides," Robert added, "the doctor can answer your questions better than what any of us can. He'll probably want to talk to you anyway. Get his medical history so they know how they can plan their therapy program."

At that moment, Speed wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole. Regret began to nibble away at him. He had not wanted them to be interrogated for things they knew nothing about. Still, there was no going back. He at least had to say something.

"They didn't know who I was," he sighed. "Hell, I still don't know who I am." That caught their attention, and the anger just deflated from Pops. His eyes were wide and shimmering with shock.

"What do you mean you don't know who you are?" his friend asked. "How can you not know who you are? We've . . ."

"I know what you've told me," Speed interjected. "I know that I know you. I know your voices but nothing more than that. I don't remember why I left or how I even got here."

By now, tears had welled up in his eyes, which were already feeling heavy. The ache in them had not abated, either, and sleep started to call to him.

'Not now,' he pleaded to himself. 'I just found them. They know these things and they'll tell me. I know it.'

His mother somehow noticed the sleepiness that had invaded his eyes, even as he fought against it. She smiled sweetly and gently at him then kissed him once more on the forehead, her fingers delicately combing through his hair. It felt rather soothing.

"Go to sleep, baby. We'll be here when you wake up."

Unable to resist any longer, his eyes closed and he drifted off to sleep once more.

* * *

Rex watched as his brother closed his eyes and fell asleep within the matter of mere minutes. It happened quickly, far too quickly in his opinion. Speed never tired that easily.

'I wonder what kind of pain medications he's on. I've never seen him look so tired before.' From the corner of his eye, he watched as Torie and Robert left the room.

'Curious. What are those two up to?'

Quietly, he excused himself and followed them. He wanted to stay with his family for a little while longer, so he would not miss a thing, but his brother now slept. Not much would be happening while he stepped out. After a few moments, they separated, Robert heading towards the nurses' station and Torie for the elevators. He followed her into the elevator. The moment he did, she sighed and scowled at him.

"Is there something about me that you just find absolutely fascinating?" she inquired, slightly annoyed.

"You said Speed looked like Ryan . . ."

"No. Your friend said he looked like Ryan. I'm saying he does a little. There are very noticeable differences, however," she stated, staring at the elevator door.

"Oh? Like what?"

"Ryan was half-Japanese. You could see it. Your friend does not look like he even has a tiny bit of Japanese in him."

"Good point," he nodded. Silently, he added because they were not of Japanese descent. They were Irish-Italian. "You seem awfully . . . moody."

"I am moody," she replied evenly. "I'm always moody."

"Any particular reason why?" he asked. She sighed for a second time, and she looked like she really wanted to punch him for even pestering her.

"Comes with the territory."

"Comes with the territory?" he echoed. "What territory?"

"The territory of being pregnant," she snapped. Then she sighed and rubbed her eyes. Rex blinked behind his mask. She was pregnant? But how?

"You're pregnant?"

"Yeah," she nodded, her eyes holding a far away look. "Ryan and I had been trying for a while now. Didn't want to wait for marriage. We both knew we were getting older and not younger. We also knew we wanted to be together, forever, until the end of time. Figured it would be better in the long run. And I found out the night of the accident. Ryan never knew."

"Oh . . ." Rex felt at a loss for as to what he should say next. An apology seemed appropriate, since he had brought up some painful memories. He never received the chance.

"You might want to get back to your friend," she said. "Robert's already at the nurses' station, telling them about what's happened. The doctor should be up there any moment to explain things. You might want to be there for that."

The elevator came to a stop and Torie stepped out.

"Torie . . ."

"Yeah?" She glanced at him, a deep and impenetrable sadness in her eyes. He felt lost for words.

"I'm sorry to hear about what happened to your fiancé. I really am," he said sadly. "I can't even begin to imagine how you must feel right now."

"Everyone is, Racer X. It's always sad when someone dies at a young age. But what's done is done. There are no such things as happy endings anymore."

"Are you sure about that?" he asked quietly. Something about her words chilled him, sending the icy waves coursing through his spine and into the pit of his stomach.

"Are you sure that there are?" she shot back.

"No . . ."

"There's your answer then. Have a good day."

The doors closed as she turned and walked away, leaving him to ponder her words.

'At least I know where she's getting her determination to live from. A baby. I wonder if it'll look like her . . .'

* * *

Sparky watched as his best friend slept quietly and shivered. After what the doctor had told them about Speed's injuries and how he obtained them, he knew Speed was very lucky to be alive and even luckier to have had Sergeant Mahoney watching over him. It also explained why Speed's memories were no longer there. The trauma he suffered through should have done more than just rob him of his past. It should have killed him.

'Thank goodness his luck didn't run out entirely,' Sparky thought to himself as he watched Pops and Inspector Detector slip out. 'I wonder what will help trigger Speed's memory. I hope it wont' be the last time he saw Trixie. Man, he was so crushed that day.'

He and Mrs. Racer sat in silence for a while, listening to Speed breathe. It had a rather lulling effect and Sparky found himself drifting off and thinking about how radically everything had changed. Speed's racing days were probably numbered and he wasn't sure how his friend was going to react to that news once he had regained his memory. 'Don't worry, buddy. We'll help you. We'll help you.'

* * *

Speed slowly opened his eyes and yawned. He hadn't wanted to wake up – he'd had a wonderful dream in which he had found his family and someone else, a woman, and he wanted to relish it as much as he could. However, his mind had told his body it was time to wake up. Azure eyes woke up to early morning light.

'Odd . . . I've done this before . . . but where? When? Why does my head ache?'

"Morning, sunshine," a woman's voice greeted. He raised his head slightly and saw a familiar looking blonde-haired woman sitting next to him. Snoring greeted his ears and he knew that it had been no dream. He had been found.

"Morning, Torie," he replied softly, gazing over her. "You look tired."

Torie smiled.

"I worked last night and I just haven't gone to bed yet. Thought you might like some breakfast so I fixed some scrambled eggs and brought some bananas and yogurt."

"Thank you," he smiled back. She scooted a little closer and helped him to eat. Speed wanted the use of his arms back so he tried as best he could to handle the fork and spoon Torie had brought with her. She even helped him out when it looked like he couldn't manage.

"Wish I had your luck, kid," a grizzled voice commented. "Not everyone gets to be fed breakfast by a beautiful young lady."

"Sarge," Torie sighed reprovingly yet chuckling slightly. Speed, however, turned bright red. Neither of them seemed to notice. If they did, they said nothing.

Sergeant Mahoney walked up beside Torie and smiled like a Cheshire cat. His eyes shone and Speed thought he saw tears forming in the older man's eyes.

"I never thought I'd see this day,: he breathed. "You are one tough young man, Mr. Racer. Not many people live to tell after a beating like that."

"So I've been told . . ."

"Don't doubt it, son. Don't doubt it for a moment. I've seen people sustain less by the Black Tiger gang and die from it."

"I was told that the people who did this to me haven't been caught," Speed said after a few moments had passed in silence. He figured that Sergeant Mahoney was there to talk about what happened but didn't feel secure in how helpful he'd be. The incident, and his entire life, still eluded him.

"This is true," Mahoney nodded. "The investigation is still ongoing but I can't do much more until you remember something about that night. That isn't the reason why I'm here, though."

"Oh? Why are you here?" he inquired, wishing he could push himself higher in the bed.

"To return these back to you," came the reply. Sergeant Mahoney placed two items on the bedside table, a key and a small blue velvet box.

Speed's breath caught in his throat the instant he saw the box. It held the answers he'd been seeking since waking up yet . . . yet he feared to touch it, feared to find out what those answers were. With a trembling hand, he reached for it . . .


	10. Chapter 10

Mrs. Racer awoke to the sound of someone crying softly. For a moment, she'd forgotten where she was and what had happened to her son, and she raised her head to see who was sobbing. Realization flooded her when she saw where she was at and she immediately went to her son's side.

In his hand, he held a small, blue velvet box. Pain reflected in his eyes as tears pooled in them, threatening to spill over. The box itself had been flipped open and Mrs. Racer looked to see what it held, paying no attention to the fact that two other people were there.

Nestled in the box was a band of gold – she guessed it to be 14 karat – and in the center of the band rested a single diamond. She remembered the box and the ring very well. Speed had worked hard for some time to save enough money for the ring. He had also been saving for the day his life would change again. There had been such joy the day he brought that little blue velvet box home, and he had sworn everyone to secrecy, including Spritle. Her son had been set to ask his high school sweetheart to marry him, and she had turned him away for an alleged affair.

In a flash, he closed the box and set it back down, his eyes closed. He took several deep breaths to calm himself down but she knew it would be a matter of time before he would break down, the pain of the loss eating away at him.

"Oh, my child," she whispered, kissing his forehead. She wanted to take his pain away, to shield him from the hurts and rejections the world would hurl at him, but she knew it was impossible. If she were to do such a thing, her son . . . no, her sons . . . would never be able to stand on their own two feet, to grow and become stronger.

As if aware of her presence for the first time, he opened his eyes and looked at her. She saw recognition in them. He knew. He remembered and, for a moment only, she wished he didn't, if only to spare him the pain of remembering what he had lost. She knew. She had talked to Trixie shortly after Speed had disappeared. She knew the details, and she wished she didn't, if only so she did not have to see their effects on her son and know why.

'How could you not believe in him, Trixie? The only girl he ever loved was you. How could you?'

* * *

Sarge looked at the young man he'd been watching over for the past year. He definitely remembered something. Sarge was sure of it but he didn't want to press the issue. Whatever he remembered had been painful, far more painful than anything the Black Tigers had done to him. A strong urge to leave and let him be overtook Sarge and he bowed his head respectfully. The kid needed some time to himself. He could see that.

"I'll leave you be, kid. If you remember and you're ready to talk, tell Dr. Richmond and I'll be here as quickly as I can."

He turned to go but stopped when he heard a soft voice whisper, "I remember . . . I'll talk now."

"You don't have to, kid," he stated. "Give yourself some time . . ."

"No . . . I want to talk now," came the insistence. "Maybe . . . maybe it'll help . . ."

Sarge turned to face him and he saw a sincerity there that he had not seen in anyone his age for a very long time. Speed definitely reminded him of Ryan O'Connell the night Ryan had died and Ryan had been dead when he saw him. He hesitated for a moment, wondering just how much this was going to be on this young man, and then he nodded.

"All right. Let me get my things and we'll begin."

Sarge quickly exited the room and headed for his patrol car. He always carried a notepad, never knowing when he would end up needing it. By the time he got back to the room, his father and his friends had awakened, and Torie still sat next to him. Their hands had somehow become entangled. Sarge smiled at the sight.

'Another kind soul . . . I'm glad they've met. Maybe they can help each other out with their problems.'

Pulling up a chair, Sarge flipped open his notebook and pulled out his pen, ready for the task at hand.

"Okay . . . start from the beginning, son. And if it becomes too much, we can always do this at a later day. You understand?"

"I do," he nodded. Taking a deep breath, he began his story.

* * *

Rex watched and listened in envy and horror at his brother's tale. Horror at the detail in which he described the assault that had rained upon him and envy at the fact his brother held Torie Cronkhite's hand. He had to hold himself in check to keep from ripping their hands apart.

'She's being a friend to him,' he told himself. 'That's all. He's too young for her anyway.'

Eventually, Speed's tale ended and Sergeant Mahoney left, armed with enough to get an arrest warrant. Rex's heart ached after hearing everything his brother had gone through. No one should have gone through anything like that.

"So what are you doing here, Torie?"

Sparky's question brought Rex back to the here and now. He, too, had wondered why she had come back, especially after the somewhat hostile way Pops had treated her the day before.

"Clothing donation," she replied. "Figured he'd need some clothes while he's here so I went through some of Ryan's old clothes and picked out the ones I thought he'd be able to wear."

"You didn't have to do that," his mother stated.

"But I wanted to," Torie smiled.

"Won't your boyfriend get upset?" Speed asked. Rex grimaced behind his mask.

'Wrong thing to bring up, Speed.'

"I'm sure he wouldn't mind, sweetie," she stated, still smiling. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

Speed frowned when he heard Torie say that. Her boyfriend wouldn't mind her giving away his clothes? Somehow, he doubted it but something in her eyes told him that there was more to the story than that. Something had happened. He could tell. Then he thought of something, something Robert had mentioned briefly yesterday.

"You and Ryan were in that car accident with Robert, weren't you?" he whispered. Torie's eyes met his. She didn't even have to answer the question. Her eyes held the answer. He knew.

"I'm sorry," he whispered again. Torie offered him a faint smile.

"Don't be," she said. "It wasn't your fault. There wasn't anything anyone could do anyway."

"I'm sorry that it's hurt you . . ."

"Losing someone you love is a part of life, Speed. It's something we must learn to deal with, y'know? Life does go on. Besides, I still have a little piece of him," she smiled a little brighter, squeezing his hand gently. "And I think he'd be more than happy to help you out as well."

"Thank you . . ."

His eyes glanced back at the velvet box that held the engagement ring he had picked out for Trixie. He missed her, more than anything, yet his heart no longer felt like it would explode. Speed wondered if the coma had anything to do with that.

'I guess a year of sleeping could do that to someone . . .'

"Thank you, Ms Cronkhite," Pops said, his gruff voice tearing into his thoughts. "I'm sure the clothes will come in handy when we take him home. Hopefully the doctor will be releasing him soon. If you'll excuse us, we need to talk to the doctor . . ."

"Sure," she said, not sounding entirely certain that she should leave. "I need to get home to my brats anyway, make sure they haven't demolished the place . . ."

Torie stood up and left. Speed wanted to call her back. Next to his mother and Robert, Torie had been one of the friendliest faces he'd seen since waking up. Sure, everyone had been happy to see him alive and well but she'd been the first one, next to Robert, who had actually talked to him and looked at him as if he were a person and not the famous Speed Racer. He rather liked that.

"That was rather rude, Pops," he commented quietly, his eyes staring at the ceiling. "She was only trying to help."

"We don't need help from people like her," Pops retorted. "You're not a charity case and you sure as hell are not going to act like one. We'll find someone else to donate those clothes to."

"What makes you think she's treating me like a charity case?" Speed couldn't believe how dull his voice sounded in his ears.

"Because you look like her dead fiancé," Pops snapped. "That's why."

"What?" Speed wished he could push himself up so he could look at his father. Had his father just said what he thought he said?

"You heard me. You look like her dead fiancé. That's why she's being nice. She's probably hoping that you can take his place."

"You don't know that, Pops," he whispered. By now, tears were pooling in his eyes once more. Why, he wasn't sure. They were just there. His father's words hurt, like a knife slicing through his flesh and into his bones. "She could really want to help."

"We're not going to be accepting her help," Pops stated. "We're going to find the Mach 5 and get you home. The sooner we do that, the better."

"Maybe I don't want to leave . . ."

"You're coming home with us, Speed. It's where you belong," Pops told him. "You have a life there. Here, you have nothing. Just pain and grief. I wonder who we can talk to about donating these clothes . . ."

"We're . . . not donating them," Speed said through clenched teeth. Since coming to, he'd had a terrible ache in his back from not being able to move around much. Today, it seemed to be amplified by something and he'd been trying his best to ignore it.

"Speed," his father began, his tone warning.

"We're not donating them, Pops. I don't care if you think she's treating me like a charity case or not. I'm not about to insult someone who's suffered a greater tragedy than I have. We're not donating the clothes."

"Dear, I think we need to go take a walk," his mother said suddenly. Speed figured Pops was about to say something more but she was intervening.

"Of course . . ."

His mother kissed him lightly on the forehead and murmured, "Calm down, baby. Just calm down and relax. I'll be right back."

He heard them leave but he couldn't calm down. The pain in his back was becoming unbearable and he tried adjusting himself, if only to ease the pain a little. However, he had very little strength in his arms and none in his legs. The back brace held him firmly in place from his neck to his waist. Movement was limited at best, and it aggravated him, which worsened his pain.

"Speed, are you all right?" Sparky asked, his voice filled with concern.

"I can't . . ."

"Everything all right?" a woman's voice asked. Speed recognized her voice. It was the nurse from the day before. Val, he believed.

"Yeah," he lied. "I'm all right."

"Mmm-hmmm . . . I'll be right back."

She exited and a few moments later, two young girls entered. They ushered his friends out and pulled the privacy curtain. Val walked in a few moments later, after they had informed him of what they were about to do. Speed frowned nervously.

"Are you sure about this?"

"Yes," Val nodded. "I'm sure, Mr. Racer. Dr. Richmond says it'll be a good idea for you to get out of that bed, especially if you're having a hard time getting comfortable. Besides, he wants to start your physical therapy as soon as possible."

He wasn't sure of how long it took – he couldn't see any clocks – but in what felt like an hour, Speed had been cleaned, dressed, and transferred into a wheelchair.

"You ready?" Val asked, stepping behind the wheelchair.

"I guess . . ."

"Then here we go."

She pushed him out into the hallway but, before they had gone too far, he managed to catch a glimpse of himself in a mirror.

He looked nothing like he had a year ago. His hair nearly reached his shoulders and he had dark circles under his eyes. Any traces of happiness he had felt then were gone. Sadness edged his blue eyes and he wondered if he'd ever be able to recapture what he once felt. The dark clothing Torie had donated seemed appropriate to him somehow.

'Who am I kidding?' he thought morosely. 'Those days are over. I'll never be able to go back.'

He rode in silence as they made their way down the hall.


	11. Chapter 11

_"Let's go, girls. . ."_

 

The thumping of the country song did little to cheer up Trixie as she entered the bar. Denim Lounge it was called and she figured it was the best place for her to make an escape from her husband, if only for a few hours. They still had to consummate their marriage, Trixie being the one holding off. For some reason, she couldn't bring herself to take things that far. A small part of her missed Speed and she couldn't in good conscious go any further with Taylor. At least, not until she had a chance to talk with her former beau.

'I wonder if he and his wife are happy,' she thought as she sat down at the bar. 'I should find out where they're living and pay them a visit. I can't live like this.'

"And what can I get you?" a voice inquired. Trixie looked up to see a woman behind the bar, waiting with an order pad.

She had long blonde hair with blue and purple streaks throughout and some visible tattoos on her arms; she wore a dark blue tank top, revealing a tattoo just above her left breast. Trixie thought she looked familiar but brushed it off momentarily . . . until she read her nametag. Torie. Trixie stiffened slightly. The name was too hauntingly familiar.

"Nothing right now . . . What's your last name, Torie?"

The woman gave her a puzzled look as she set the order pad down. She then shrugged as she answered, "Cronkhite. Why?"

It hit Trixie. She had seen Torie's picture in the paper, not from the car accident two weeks prior but from the wedding announcement Taylor had shown her. Torie had been in Speed's wedding.

"Maybe you can help me . . . You know Speed Racer, right?"

"A little," the other woman replied cautiously. "Why? Do you know him?"

"Yes," Trixie nodded eagerly. "I used to date him. Do you know where I can find him?" Torie started to answer when someone called her name. She rolled her eyes a little, sighing. "Excuse me for a moment. I swear those boys would get lost around here if it weren't for me."

Trixie waited while Torie checked on her male colleagues. As she waited, she did not expect to hear two very familiar voices.

"Trixie?"

Quickly, she turned and saw Sparky walking in with Racer X and she smiled. She had missed seeing them during the past year. Instinctively, she hugged both men then sat back down.

"What are you doing here, Trixie?" Racer X inquired.

"Oh, just out to clear my head," she replied. "What about you guys?"

"Out seeing the sights," Sparky answered glibly. He seemed like he was in a very good mood and she was about to ask what had happened when Torie returned.

"Okay, you said you were looking for a guy named Speed Racer?"

If she had been looking at them, Trixie would have seen Racer X and Sparky's jaws dropped. However, she was not looking at them. Her attention was back on Torie as she pulled the photocopied newspaper clipping out of her pocket and handed it to her.

"Yes. I need to talk him. It's very important."

Torie frowned as she looked at the paper then looked back at her. Something about the woman's expression unsettled Trixie.

"Where did you get this?" she asked.

"My . . . husband gave it to me," Trixie replied. "Can you help me?"

"Trixie . . ."

"Not now, Sparky," she snapped.

"And who's your husband?" Torie suddenly demanded. Trixie blinked. This was not how things were supposed to go. She was the one asking the questions. She was the one who needed answers. Then again, Torie said she knew Speed, and there was something in the other woman's demeanor that frightened Trixie. While she knew she could handle herself in a fight, Trixie doubted her abilities to be able to fight Torie Cronkhite.

"Taylor Silius Prescott the Third, Esquire. Why?" she blinked.

"And he told you that this was your ex-boyfriend, Speed Racer?"

"Yeah," Trixie nodded. Torie was starting to scare her.

"Oh, sweetie, you have been taken for a ride," Torie said, handing the paper back to her. "That's not Speed Racer. That's Seth O'Connell and his wife, Lia."

"Seth O'Connell?" Racer X piped in. "Any relation to Ryan O'Connell?"

"They're brothers and the only ones that look alike in their family," Torie stated, her attention still focused on Trixie. "You still want to know where your ex is?"

Trixie nodded numbly. How Racer X knew this woman was beyond her but it was the furthest thing from her mind. Her head was still reeling from hearing that the man in the photo was NOT Speed, that it was, in fact, another man entirely. Taylor had lied to her?

"He's at St. Mary's hospital," Torie told her. "Been there for the last year."

Trixie sat there, void of any emotion or physical feeling. She thought she felt a hand on her shoulder but couldn't feel it. She thought she heard someone say something to her but she couldn't hear it. As quickly as she had arrived, she was out the door and on her way to St. Mary's.

* * *

Rex watched as Trixie fled the bar then looked at Torie. A fire smoldered in the older woman's eyes and he remembered everything she had said about Taylor Prescott and the tone she had used when talking about him. She absolutely loathed and despised the man. From what he heard Trixie just say, he definitely did not blame her.

"You're quite the spitfire," he commented.

"So?"

Rex heard Sparky chuckle. He was even hard pressed to keep a straight face. Torie definitely had a lot of spunk.

"I rather like that," Rex grinned.

Torie just smiled at that then went back to her business. After serving him and Sparky some drinks, she went into the back. The two men sat in silence for a while, Rex's mind not on his brother but on a certain female. He couldn't help but notice how she kept herself just out of reach of him and he couldn't figure out why.

"Racer X . . ." Sparky's voice interrupted his train of thought.

"Yes, Sparky?"

"What do you think is going to happen between Speed and Trixie?"

The question caught him off-guard. He had not thought about what would happen if Speed were to see Trixie, especially after she had broken his heart the year before.

"I don't know, Sparky . . . All we can do is just wait and see."

* * *

"So how did it go?"

Speed just glanced at his roommate as Val wheeled him back into the room, the two nursing assistants behind him. His arms and his legs ached from a year of immobility, not to mention what his back was still doing to him. Lying down never sounded so good before.

"I just want to go back to sleep," he whispered.

"I bet," Robert smiled gently. "These girls can torment you when they get it in their heads to do so."

"We love you, too, Robert," Val said sarcastically as they helped him back into bed. He thought the back brace had limited him before. Now he knew just how limited he was.

"Supper will be served soon, gents," Val announced. "Hope your appetites are intact."

"Thanks for the warning, Val!" Robert called out as the women left the room. Speed managed a faint smile. He loved listening to the banter between Robert and the staff. They sounded like one big happy family. Moments after the nurses had left, Mrs. Racer stuck her head in and smiled at him as she walked over.

"How are you doing, baby?" she asked, stroking back his hair.

"Sore but good, I guess," he replied. His mother nodded, and her hands clasped his again. She did that a lot.

"I talked to Dr. Richmond. He says that we can take you home in a week. He just wants to make sure you'll be strong enough to sit through the flight home."

"What about Sergeant Mahoney's investigation?"

"Inspector Detector is working on that," she stated. "We just can't stay here, Speed. Your brother's staying with your aunt. He's missed you, you know."

"I know . . . I miss him, too . . ."

He fell silent for a moment, his eyes staring at the ceiling. There wasn't much else for him to do. He could hear music emanating from Robert's side of the room but it was faint. Robert tended to wear headphones now that he was awake.

"I'll be right back, baby."

"Okay . . ."

Speed closed his eyes as his mother left the room. Images danced around in his mind, all of them firsts. The first time he had entered a race, the first date he and Trixie had ever gone on, the first time they kissed . . . Every little thing he could recall, Trixie had been there. He had known no other, despite the attention other girls had heaped upon him. Though he had liked it, it hadn't been enough to tear him away from Trixie.

'Now she's gone . . . What am I going to do? I'm not sure I can make it without her.'

A song filled the room. Robert had switched from the headphones to the mini speakers apparently. Speed opened his eyes, tears running down the sides of his face.

 _"And as the sun goes down, it starts to paint a picture . . . of an ancient town so far away, across the endless sea . . . Oh, lead me to the light and take me to the edge of heaven . . . I am standing in the night, looking for the edge of heaven . . . We'll be touching the edge of heaven . . ."_

* * *

Mrs. Racer had made her way to the cafeteria. She was quite tired of eating hospital and fast food. Nothing could beat a home-cooked meal and she could not wait until she had Speed back home. Already she had planned the first meal she intended to fix once he was back on solid foods, and it consisted of all of his favourite foods.

'I don't know how anyone can stand to eat this food,' she thought in dismay as she took her food back to her son's room. On her way there, she saw someone she had not expected to see there.

"Trixie?"

The young woman whirled around, her eyes wide. She obviously had not expected anyone to call out her name but she managed a small smile when she saw who had addressed her.

"Mrs. Racer . . . I came to see Speed but the nurses won't tell me anything. How is he doing?"

She noted the concern in Trixie's voice but still hesitated. They hadn't heard from Trixie in nearly a year, not since she had told her that Speed had disappeared. Mrs. Racer even wondered if she should take Trixie to Speed's room but immediately dismissed it. Trixie and Speed had a longstanding history together. It wasn't something that could or would be easily forgotten, by either of them.

"He's doing all right, all things considered," she nodded slightly, smiling a little.

"What happened?" Trixie asked timidly. "Why is he here?"

Mrs. Racer sighed softly. Explaining that would be tricky but she figured she could handle it as they walked to his room.

"Come with me and I'll tell you."

Trixie fell into step with her as Mrs. Racer walked, reiterating everything her son had told them after they had found him.

Trixie felt her blood run cold as she listened to Mrs. Racer talk. She had not expected her leaving Speed to devastate him to the point where he'd just take off then allow a bunch of thugs to beat him nearly to death.

As they reached his room, music emanated from it.

 _"I want peace, love and understanding . . . a stogie and an ice cold beer . . . don't want to live afraid of dying . . . I used to hit every wall there was . . . wondering what I was doing wrong . . ."_

"Who's playing the music?" she asked. Mrs. Racer shook her head.

"Must be his roommate, Robert. Oddly enough, Robert is the same one Sparky saw last year with a guy who looked like Speed."

"Ryan O'Connell?"

"Yes," Mrs. Racer nodded. "How did you . . ."

"I've lived in Philadelphia for a few months now," Trixie quickly explained. "The accident that took Ryan's life was front page news for three days. It was an unusual accident, caused gridlock for nearly twelve hours. When I saw his picture, I thought he could pass as Speed but I knew it wasn't him. There was a broodiness in his eyes that would be uncharacteristic for Speed. Then I saw his fiancé's picture . . . totally opposite, they were."

"You mean Torie?"

"Yes," Trixie nodded. "I remember thinking she had a bright personality, very vibrant. You could see it in the way her eyes smiled. I never saw such a happier person in my life. And now I've met her . . . She's definitely different."

"Agreed."

The song ended and the two women entered. Speed's roommate looked up and offered a slight nod then did a double take when he saw her. Trixie suddenly felt uncomfortable under his gaze. She knew who Robert was and knew just how much he detested her husband, though why, Taylor had never said.

Immediately, Robert shoved the headphones back into the Walkman and stuck his nose deep into a magazine. It was as if he wanted to pretend that she wasn't there. Trixie didn't blame him. She probably would have done the same in his situation.

'At least he's not saying anything about Taylor . . .'

Trixie kept her gaze ahead of her and made sure it avoided Robert and that it landed on Speed. The sight of him stole her breath away and made her want to cry at the same time.

His eyes were closed and his breathing was steady, an indication that he had fallen asleep. What had struck her, though, was his appearance. His hair had become longer, making him look older than his twenty years of age, and he wore a black t-shirt sporting the phrase "Ninja monkeys conspire as we speak, plotting my demise." He did not look like the young man she had fallen in love with and still loved yet she found everything she saw unbelievably attractive. Trixie stood next to him, her fingers combing their way through his dark locks. She leaned over him and kissed him lightly on the forehead.

"I love you, Speed Racer, and I'm sorry. I should have never doubted you for a moment. You are one of a kind. Never forget that. There will never be another you for as long as I live. Take care of yourself."

Having said that, she quickly exited, failing to notice the blue velvet box that rested on his bedside table.


	12. Chapter 12

'I can't believe that I'm actually going through with this,' Rex thought as he made his way up the stairs to Torie's apartment, carrying a bouquet of white roses, his mother's favourite. His heart nearly jumped out of his chest as he neared her door. He hadn't felt like this about any woman since . . . since he couldn't recall. After he had left home, the only woman he cared about had been his mother.

As he drew closer to her door, he heard the sounds of a movie emanating from within. He paused for a moment to listen then frowned. The movie did not sound familiar to him but then he barely had time to go to the movies anymore. Between racing and his work with Interpol, he could hardly afford a moment to sit down for dinner, let alone an hour and a half movie.

'Yet here I am,' he mused. 'Going to ask a woman out to dinner and a movie.' With a trembling hand, Rex knocked on the door and waited. The dogs started barking the instant he did. Within a few moments, the lock slid out of place and he faced the woman he had come to see.

"I can't seem to get away from you, can I?" He thought he saw a glint of amusement in her eyes. Still, there was a great reservation about her. Rex smiled, hoping to put her at ease.

"What can I say? You made an impression on me."

"I see . . ."

Rex held out the flowers.

"For me?"

He nodded. She looked at him for a moment then moved to one side.

"Come on in."

Rex stepped in and looked around, inspecting the apartment a little more closely this time. The landlord had not been kidding when he had called Torie eccentric. Not only did pictures of her family and friends adorn the walls but so did posters for the Bangles, Elijah Wood, Stuart Townsend, The Lord of the Rings, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, The Transformers, Dale Earnhardt, and various fantasy depictions of princesses, castles, wizards, dragons, gargoyles, vampires, and unicorns. A latch-hook piece hung over the couch, saying "Love me, Love my cat." Wolves, cats, and fantasy figurines lined her shelves along with plates. A katana and a pair of sai hung over her computer desk. Another sword hung over her entertainment system, and, aside from a coffee table, a single end table, a futon, two bookshelves overflowing with books, a few plants, the computer desk, and the entertainment system, the place had been sparsely furnished. It didn't even look like two people had lived there.

"Interesting place you've got here," he commented. Torie shrugged.

"I am who I am."

Rex looked at the TV to see what he had been hearing. On the screen, two people were making their way up the side of an active volcano. Torie smiled when she saw him watching the movie.

"It's a good movie," she said, taking the flowers from him. "Saw it many times in the theater when it came out and that was just over the Christmas holiday."

"Sounds addicting," he chuckled. Torie walked into the kitchen then emerged out a few moments later.

" _The Lord of the Rings_ are very addicting movies," she stated. "I saw _Fellowship_ five times, _Towers_ four . . ."

"There's more than one?"

"Yeah," she chuckled. "Didn't you know?"

"Not really," he said, rather shamefaced. "I'm not up on pop culture."

"They're not really pop culture. Have you read the books?"

"Once. A long time ago," he answered.

"Then you know pretty much how the movies end," Torie explained. "Peter Jackson did an outstanding job on these films. Better than what I could ever dream of doing."

"I see . . ."

"What brings you by, Racer X? It wasn't to ask me about my movie or to bring me flowers, I'm sure. Is your . . . friend doing all right?"

Rex noticed how she hesitated in saying "friend" but decided to ignore it. Torie barely followed Formula-1 racing – she admitted as much when he and Sparky had gone to the bar where she worked – and there wasn't any way she could suspect something so soon.

'She's probably heard from Speed about our first encounter.'

"Speed's doing all right," he answered. "And you're right. I didn't stop by to talk to you about the movie or just to bring you flowers. I was wondering if you'd like to go out to dinner with me tonight and maybe even catch a movie."

Torie stared at him, like she couldn't believe what he had just said. Heck, he still couldn't believe he had shown up at her apartment in the first place. Rex watched her with baited breath, waiting for her response.

"You . . . want to take me out to dinner and possibly a movie?" she repeated.

"Yes," he nodded.

"Tonight?"

"Yes," he nodded again.

"I see . . ."

"Something wrong?"

"No," she answered. "Not really. It's just that . . . every time I see you, you're wearing that mask and it makes me nervous. Extremely nervous. I don't know what to expect from you."

"Oh . . ." Rex's spirits dropped. She did have a point and he didn't blame her for not trusting him entirely. Were he in her position, he'd probably feel the same way. Yet, he didn't dare reveal himself to her. To do that would be to put her and her unborn child in danger, not to mention what it would do to his own family. Still, he wanted to be with her, if only for a night.

"What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking . . . that I'd still like to take you out to dinner tonight. That is, if you don't have any other plans . . ."

"Not until nine tonight but . . ."

"Okay then. Now, I have a proposition for you, Torie."

"Like what?" Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. He almost laughed.

"Like I take my mask off and tell you who I am," he responded. "However, you mustn't tell anyone. There's a lot at stake here. Can you promise me that?"

"Yeah . . . I promise . . ."

Slowly, Rex Racer removed his mask . . .


	13. Chapter 13

Sparky heaved a sigh, fighting a strong urge to get up and start moving around. Speed hadn't come back yet from his physical therapy session, Pops and Inspector Detector were getting the Mach 5 out of impound, Mrs. Racer had gone in search of halfway decent food, and Racer X had simply disappeared. Sparky had a guess as to where he had gone but kept his mouth shut. That left him alone with Speed's roommate, Robert, and he seemed to be pre-occupied with either tormenting the nursing staff or reading a magazine. Sparky couldn't tell which. Finally, the silence got to him. He had to say something, anything, to relieve his boredom.

"So when are you leaving here, Robert?"

Robert looked up then shrugged.

"Don't know. Whenever the doctor says I can go, I'm sure. I just hope it's soon. I'm getting tired of this place."

"I bet," Sparky chuckled. "Two weeks of this place would drive anyone crazy."

"It isn't that," Robert sighed. "I just . . . I hate being here. I nearly missed my best friend's funeral because of being here and I haven't been able to tell how Torie's been doing since the accident."

"You really care about her, don't you?"

"Yeah," Robert nodded. "I do. I met her a couple of years before Ryan moved to Philadelphia. It's because of me that they eventually met . . . and got together. If it hadn't been for the fact that I'd been seeing someone else at the time, I definitely would have asked Torie to go out with me. She's quite charming, really . . . Neither of them are from Philadelphia, by the way."

"Oh?" That had Sparky's interest.

"Yeah. Torie came from Michigan . . . moved here from a small village called Manton . . ."

"I think I've heard of that. It's north of Grand Rapids, right?"

"Yeah," Robert nodded. "And Ryan moved here from San Francisco. Never thought those two would ever end up liking each other, let alone loving each other as much as they did. They were really crazy about each other."

"They sound like quite the couple," Sparky observed sadly, thinking that Speed and Trixie had been the same once.

"They were," Robert agreed. "Despite her eccentricity, Ryan loved her. Hell, he moved in with her after they had dated for six months. Told me it felt like home, being there. The girl is odd and loves every minute of it. And if it hadn't been for him, she might have been my girl," he added softly.

Sparky chuckled slightly at that, remembering how Torie had not been afraid to speak her mind and failing to catch Robert's last comment. He figured that had to be the reason why Racer X seemed to like her so much. 'I just hope he knows what he's getting himself into,' Sparky sighed to himself.

* * *

 _"For all those times you stood by me . . . For all the truth that you made me see . . . For all the joy you brought to my life . . . For all the wrongs that you made right . . . For every dream you made come true . . . For all the love I found in you . . . I'll be forever thankful, baby. You're the one who helped me up and never let me fall. You're the one who saw me through . . . through it all . . ."_

Trixie stared out her bedroom window as the song played itself out, silent tears running down her cheeks. Taylor was in a room nearby and she didn't want him to hear her crying. In fact, she didn't want him near her at all, after everything Torie and Mrs. Racer had told her. Why she believed them, she wasn't sure. Something about the fire in Torie's eyes had scared her. The woman absolutely loathed Taylor.

'What he doesn't know won't hurt him,' she had reasoned for keeping her silence. Another thing Taylor wouldn't know about would be her second visit to the older woman.

"Trixie, love? Is everything all right?"

"Yeah," she whispered. "Everything's fine."

Her husband wrapped his arms around her waist and he hugged her. She had no doubts that Taylor loved her. It was evident in the way he looked at her and he had promised to make her happy.

 _"You were always there for me . . . The tender wind that carried me . . . A light in the dark, shining your love into my life . . . You've been my inspiration . . . Through the lies, you were the truth . . . My world is a better place . . . because of you . . ."_

"You're missing Speed, aren't you?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah," she nodded. "I do miss him . . ."

"And you always will?"

Trixie turned to face him, fearing that he'd be angry with her for thinking of her former beau two days after they had been wed. Instead, she saw kindness and understanding, a very noticeable change from before.

"Yes. I always will," she whispered.

"I guess I can't expect to compete with his memory," he whispered back. "But I do want to be with you, Trixie. You are a one of a kind and I want to do everything in my power to make you happy."

"I know, Taylor. I know."

Tenderly, he kissed her . . .

* * *

Pops walked through the entrance of the hospital just as his wife walked out of the cafeteria. He had been rather pleased to find out that the Mach 5 had not made it to the auction block (something the police department did with impounded vehicles) and wanted to tell his wife the good news the moment he saw her . . . until he saw her.

'Better not saying anything about the Mach 5 unless she asks,' he thought as he walked up to her. 'She looks ready to start bowling with heads.'

"Hello, dear," he called out. She gave him a withering glare then stalked back to their son's room.

"All right, dear, what's wrong?" he asked, knowing she wouldn't feel better until she got it out of her system.

"They won't let Speed eat solid foods just yet," she growled angrily. "And he won't eat the pureed foods. He's going to starve to death before they update his status."

"No, he won't," Pops assured her. "It's just going to take him a little time. You'll see."

Pops knew how it important it was for his wife to see that their children were healthy. She'd had a hard time with Rex and Speed when they were growing up. Both boys had been particularly fussy in the eating department, often skipping meals when the mood took them. Spritle, on the other hand, ate just about everything in his sight.

"And what if it doesn't take him a little time?" she demanded. "You know what they're threatening to do? They're threatening to hook him up to an I.V. and a tube feed if he doesn't start eating. All he takes in are mashed potatoes, jell-o, and soups. And even then, not much. I've watched him."

Pops sighed. He, too, had watched his son whenever meals were served. Yesterday, he hadn't even touched any of the meals the hospital had served. Speed stated he'd been full. This morning had been a little better but not much.

"I'll have a talk with him, honey," he promised. Pops just hoped he'd be able to get through to his son.

* * *

"I don't want to do this anymore."

Speed hated how weak his voice sounded in his ears and had done his best to be strong but after two days of physical therapy, he hurt. Every muscle in his body protested even the simplest of movements. The lady working with him sighed.

"Speed, you're not going to get any better if you keep halting the process," she told him. "Just a few more and we'll be done."

Speed closed his eyes as the nurse finished with his range of motion on his legs, clenching his fists as the fire in them increased.

"There. We're done," the nurse announced. With the help of two assistants, they had him back in his wheelchair and on his way back to his room.

"Here we go . . . We'll get you back in bed and you can rest for a while." Speed stared blankly at the bed. He spent a lot of time there. Too much time, in his opinion. All he had was what felt like an insurmountable amount of time to think . . . and to remember.

"I think I'd rather stay up for a while," he whispered.

"Are you sure? You've had . . ."

"I'm sure," he nodded, speaking up a little. "I'm sure."

The nurse positioned the wheelchair so he didn't face the window then the three of them left. A minute after they had, Robert walked in, Sparky right beside him. Both were chuckling slightly.

"Hey, Speed! How did therapy go?" Sparky asked.

"Okay, I guess. I feel like someone set me on fire, though."

"That's good," Robert stated, sitting on his bed.

"I don't see how it can be."

"I know. Hurts like hell but it does mean you won't be stuck in that wheelchair for the rest of your life," Robert pointed out.

Speed thought about it for a moment. He wasn't sure if it was meant to cheer him up or not but the more he thought about it, the more he realised Robert had a point. If he had been void of any physical sensation, he wouldn't ache as much as he did. Speed managed a bare smile.

"Thanks, Robert."

"For what?" the older man asked, giving him a slightly confused look.

"For keeping me grounded and focused," Speed replied. "Something my older brother would do."

"You miss your older brother, don't you?"

"Yeah," he admitted. "I do."

The three of them sat in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. Speed had been remembering the fun times he had shared with his older brother and his ex-girlfriend and wondering how he was going to make it through when a low rumbling sound came from out of nowhere.

"Sounds like someone's hungry," came the comment. "I think we can remedy that. Good food is just a phone call away."

Speed watched out of the corner of his eye as Robert picked up his cell phone and dialed.

* * *

Rex watched and waited for Torie's reaction. He had taken a huge leap of faith by revealing himself to her and all she had done since he removed his mask was gaze at him with an impassive stare. Finally, she spoke.

"It's about damn time you removed that mask."

He blinked. "What?"

"You heard me," she shot back. "I said it's about damn time you removed that mask."

"You're not acting surprised . . ."

"Why? Should I be?" she asked.

"Most people would be," he explained weakly. "No one has ever seen my face before."

"Though your little brother came close?" she winked.

"So Speed did tell you about that . . ."

Torie nodded.

"Aye. He did. I thought it was weird that he would be mistaken for you, especially if you two weren't even related. Then I remembered just how much Ryan and Seth looked alike, despite the number of years between them. They even wore masks last year just to trick everyone to see if they really could tell the differences between them. It got me to thinking. There would be no way anyone could mistake Speed Racer for Racer X unless there was a relationship somewhere in the mix. I'm not stupid, Rex. I see things and I tend to listen to those around me. I'm also very good at making judgment and character calls and I must say I'm not the one who needs you right now."

"If you're referring to Speed, I have been there for him and I'll always be there for him, should he need it."

Torie sighed, shook her head, and chuckled.

"Of course, you will be. Like I said, I'm not stupid, Rex. You suffer from the I've-got-to-protect-my-younger-siblings-no-matter-what syndrome. Ryan's older brother Yoshi is the same way now, Ryan was the same way towards Seth and Danae though they didn't get along until towards the end. . . Hell, even I'm the same way with my siblings. However, there is a big difference in being there as a friend and being there as a member of the family. Your brother needs you as a brother and a friend. Not just a friend."

"You don't understand," he said, turning away. "I can't go back. Not just yet."

"Yes, you can, Rex," she murmured. "It takes a very strong person to apologize and admit that he may have made a mistake."

"You make it sound so simple."

"In some ways, it is simple, Rex."

"How do you do it?" he demanded, whirling to face her. "How can you be so damned calm about everything?"

"Me? Calm about everything? Ho, buddy, you have no idea, do you?" Torie shook her head. "Between me and Ryan, I was the quickest to get pissed off and even quicker to calm down. It's part of my heritage. But I have seen and lived through a lot. More than what some will ever see but less than what others will. I just refuse to feel sorry for myself and to let the world get me down. If I can't pick myself up and put the pieces of my life back together again, then it'll never happen. It's one of many things I have learned."

"Oh? And what else have you learned?"

"That the only one who I have to prove anything to is myself. What anyone else thinks doesn't matter. It's what I think and feel that does. I'm not a very competitive person by nature, Rex. Never have been. Never will be. I think the world would be a much better place if more emphasis were put on doing your best and having fun than on winning. Winning isn't everything."

Rex couldn't even begin to count the number of times he had heard people say that. He had always scoffed silently at those who had said it. Often those who said it lost whatever competition they were in and were being sore losers.

"You know how many times I've heard that and scoffed at those who've said it?"

"Lots of times?" Torie offered.

"Yes. More times than I care to admit, Torie, and I always believed that those who say things like that are just sore losers."

"Not someone from the sidelines? Like me?"

"I wouldn't say you're on the sidelines, Torie . . ."

"But I usually am on the sidelines, Rex. I've been on the sidelines throughout high school and after graduation. It's just . . . me. That's how I am and it's how I learn to make my own judgment calls."

The phone rang at that moment, interrupting what he was about to say next. As Torie checked her caller I.D. and answered the phone, Rex thought about what she had said.

'Someone who is constantly on the sidelines . . . by choice, from the sounds of it. But why? Why would anyone do that to herself?'

He heard Torie laugh about something then say, "Okay, I'll see what I can do," before she hung up the phone.

"What was that all about?"

"Oh, it seems that there are some hungry men at the hospital who seem to think that I have nothing better to do with my time other than cook. All I'm going to say, though, is he better not have Josie bring him pizza again. Do you think your family will like beef stew?"

"I think they might. Mom was complaining about not having a home cooked meal . . . Why? Are you heading up there?" Rex inquired.

"Yep," Torie nodded. "I already have it made and I was just going to freeze the rest for later so . . ."

"I see . . . Tell me something, Torie."

"What?"

"Why the eccentricity? Why the shield against others and why be on the sidelines?"

Torie paused for a moment then shrugged. "I am who I am. I like what I like and it shows. I guess you could say I'm an addict of sorts, which is why I won't drink alcohol or do anything else like that. As for shielding myself against others . . . twelve is a very tender age to learn you can't always trust the people around you."

"What happened?"

"Nothing and yet something," she sighed, "and it isn't even a long story. Just something I don't talk about very often. And for being on the sidelines . . . it's fun. I like to watch and write about the things that I see."

"So you're a writer . . ."

"Hey," she grinned. "Written word can convey much more than what you might think. Why do you think I like the things that I do?"

Rex grinned back. It was in that moment that he knew that she would forever be unobtainable to him. She had a different spirit about her and it would be unfair of him to ask her to leave the life she now lived.

'At least I'll have tonight,' he thought as they both prepared to head out the door.

* * *

Mrs. Racer watched as her son talked with his best friend and his roommate. She had never seen such an animated discussion about cars before in her life. Even Pops had joined in. Soon, all four men were laughing. The Racer matriarch smiled when she saw her son's eyes sparkling.

'He looks so young when he smiles. I just wonder how he's going to cope without Trixie in his life.'

"Knock knock!" a voice called out. Everyone except Speed turned as Torie and Racer X walked in. Both were carrying dishes. Torie smiled warmly as she set the huge bowl she'd been holding down.

"Torie? What are you doing here?" Mrs. Racer inquired.

"I heard a rumour that there were some hungry people here," the younger woman confessed. "And, since I had already made beef stew for supper tonight, I figured I'd share."

"You didn't have to do that," Pops began.

"Nonsense," came the reply. "I'd just end up freezing it for later anyway."

"That's very nice of you," Speed said.

"Thank you."

"But what's Speed going to eat?" Mrs. Racer inquired. "He's still on a pureed and mechanical soft diet."

Torie just smiled as she and Racer X set about serving the food. Mrs. Racer watched as, when it came to Speed, Torie made sure he had mainly potatoes and corn and that they were mashed together rather well. Instantly, the blonde-haired woman took a seat next to her son and set about helping him eat. She didn't think it would work, Torie feeding her son, but it soon became apparent the difference between Torie and the nursing assistants.

Instead of trying to feed him herself, Torie used the fork to get a mouthful of food then had Speed hold the fork himself. With a little bit of guiding and encouragement, her son not only managed to feed himself but he ate with a vigor she had not seen since they had found him. Mrs. Racer smiled as she watched him as she took a bite of her own food. Whatever misgivings she may have had about Torie slowly vanished.

"Hey, this is good!" Sparky exclaimed, devouring more of the stew. Mrs. Racer chuckled. Sparky could be quite enthusiastic at times.

"No carrots, though," Pops grumbled, though not as gruffly as he might have.

"Sorry about that," Torie offered apologetically. "I can't eat cooked carrots. Something about the texture makes me sick."

"Allergic?" Inspector Detector asked. He, too, looked as if he were enjoying the meal.

"No," she shook her head. "I can eat raw carrots. It's just one of those weird things."

"Well, I think you did an excellent job, Torie," Mrs. Racer stated, smiling at her. "Who taught you how to make it?"

"My mother," came the answer.

"Mothers usually are the best cooks," Pops grinned, his gruff exterior finally melting.

"Not always," Torie chuckled. "It took a while for my mom to get back into the groove of cooking after she kicked my dad out of the house. My brothers, sisters, and I were horrid to her for a while there. She couldn't fix eggs or cook hamburgers. When she finally started getting the hang of it, we were like, 'Okay, who are you and what have you done with our mother?'"

"That is horrid," Racer X agreed. "Did your parents ever work things out?"

"You mean did they get back together? No. My parents are divorced and married to other people."

"Sorry to hear that," Sparky said.

"Don't be," Torie told him. "It worked out for the better. I got to know someone I hadn't known before."

"And who was that?" Speed inquired softly.

"My mother," Torie smiled warmly, her eyes glancing at Mrs. Racer. While she didn't care for those who would tear families apart, including their own, Mrs. Racer couldn't help but feel that, like Torie had said, it had been for the better. She smiled back at the younger woman.

"That's a very special person to know," she murmured. "A very special person, indeed."


	14. Chapter 14

_"Give me a beat, boys, and free my soul, I wanna get lost in your rock'n roll and drift away . . . Give me a beat, boys, and free my soul, I wanna get lost in your rock'n roll and drift away . . ."_

Speed listened to the song as it played out and heaved a soft sigh. It was kind of depressing, the song, yet somehow it cheered him up a little. His thoughts had been on Trixie lately and he hadn't been able to think of anyone else.

Robert had picked up on that, though how, Speed hadn't been able to figure out. He just knew that his roommate had been very selective in what he played when it came to music. Nothing truly sad yet nothing truly uplifting. Most of the songs Robert played on his Walkman were songs Speed had never heard before but he liked them nonetheless. Idly, he wondered what he was going to do once Robert was released from the hospital. Having the older man's company comforted him for reasons he could barely identify.

"It's getting late, gentlemen," a female voice announced from the doorway. "Time to put everything up and go to sleep."

"Easier said than done," Speed murmured to himself as the lights went out and the music died out. Slowly, he closed his eyes . . .

* * *

His entire body ached. Why did his body ache? He tried opening his eyes but to no avail. They wouldn't open. He tried raising a hand to his head but he had no strength to even manage something so simple. There were voices all around him, voices that were growing faint with each passing moment.

'What's going on?'

"We're losing him!"

Losing him? What did they mean? He was right here, where he was supposed to be. Next to Torie in the truck. Where else would he be?

'Torie . . . Oh, god, the accident . . . Please God, let her be all right . . . I love her.'

"Call it."

A weary voice sighed.

"All right. I'll call it . . ."

He didn't catch the rest of what they were saying. It became unimportant as a vision appeared before his eyes, a vision of a young woman holding a child whose face he couldn't see but knew was his. She looked radiant and she smiled warmly at him, tears filling her eyes.

"I love you, Ryan O'Connell. Don't you ever forget that. Ever."

"Don't worry, Torie. I won't. And I'll be watching over you and our son. Always and forever watching. I love you both. And you be sure to tell her that, Speed Racer."

* * *

 _"I carry you up in my arms . . . I hear you sing yourself to sleep . . . The sky opens up over your room . . . sailing to your moonlight dreams . . . There's so much more than we can see . . . There's so much more than we can see . . ."_

The song crooned in the background as Rex watched Torie turn and walk away, tears filling her eyes. He couldn't help but feel guilty and sad as he watched her head into her kitchen. Guilty because he believed he could just walk into her life a mere two weeks after she lost her fiancé and sad because of the burden he knew that she bore and would bear by herself.

"Torie . . ."

She turned to face him but didn't walk back. Carefully, he approached her.

"I just want you to know that I'm not going to give up on the possibility between us."

"You think that there is?" she whispered.

"I believe that time can make all things possible," he nodded. "And I'm willing to wait for you, no matter how long it takes."

"Don't make a promise like that, Rex. Time changes things and I wouldn't want to be the reason for you missing the love of your life."

"And how do you know I haven't already found her?"

Torie smiled through her tears.

 _"All we are and all we need is all we are and all we need is all we are is all we need to be . . . Grateful . . . oh, grateful . . . Grateful . . . oh, grateful . . . is all we are and all we need . . ."_

"Because you'll know, Rex. It'll just feel right in every way possible, not just in your heart but your mind as well. And you'll just be so happy that you want the world to see it."

"And you're sure that I haven't found that in you."

"I'm sure," she nodded.

Rex stared at her for a moment, at a loss for words. He wondered what he could do to prove to her that he wanted her and no one else but knew it was far too soon. As she had just told him, she was on the rebound and it wouldn't be fair to either of them if they got involved. She still loved Ryan far too much to get involved with anyone right away.

"Well, I guess there's only one way to find out."

"What do you mean?" she gave him a questioning look.

 _"I play this guitar to sing these songs . . . It changes me instantly . . . Love is too simple a word . . . for here comes the sun in the morning . . . Suddenly happiness . . . comes running out from inside me . . ."_

"You'll see," he said enigmatically, turning for the door.

"You're not going to do anything stupid, are you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you're not going to give up your life to prove something to me, are you? Because if you are, I'll kick your ass," she stated. Rex blinked at the ferocity of her words. She sincerely meant it.

"What do I have to do to prove myself to you, Torie?"

"Prove yourself to me? Gods, would you listen to yourself? You're obsessed with proving things to people and you don't have to!" she nearly shouted, her tears vanishing instantly. "How many times do I have to tell you that?"

"I think I could stand to hear it again," he grinned.

"Men," she muttered. He started chuckling.

'At least she's not crying anymore.'

"Hey, Torie . . ."

"Yeah?" she gazed at him, a fire smoldering in her brown eyes.

"Would you really kick my ass if I gave up my life for you?" Rex inquired.

"Yes. I would," she answered.

"Did you ever tell Ryan anything like that?"

"Nope."

"Why not?" Now it was his turn to give her a puzzled look.

"Just . . . never had to," she shrugged. "Despite our different backgrounds, we were very much one person and we were both whole when we meant. Very secure in who we were and in what we wanted out of life. We weren't two halves making that whole."

"And now?"

"I feel as if someone ripped my heart out and tossed it in the Atlantic," she confessed, "but I will survive. I always have. It makes a different when you're whole, Rex. A very big difference. You're more able to survive than if you're half and expecting someone else to make up the other part of you."

A knock on the door interrupted what he was about to say next. Torie frowned as she looked at the door. She glanced at him and he shrugged. He hadn't told anyone he'd be here and he knew from the way Torie talked that all of her friends were either sleeping or at work.

"Who is it?"

"Trixie Prescott . . . May I come in?"

Torie's eyes widened as did his. He didn't know Trixie had gotten married but he did know that she knew him as Racer X. As Torie strode towards the door, he ducked into the bathroom, where he had taken off his mask. He yanked it on and stepped just as Trixie stepped inside.

"Racer X!" she exclaimed. "I didn't know you were here."

"He's been mooching," Torie stated, winking at him as she glanced at him.

"Actually, Trixie, Speed's roommate is Robert Johnson, a friend of Torie's," he explained, smiling a little. "I just came by to see how Torie was doing since she'd been in the accident and all."

"Ah . . . how did you manage to walk away from that accident, Torie?" Trixie's gaze fell on the golden-haired minx.

"Shit house luck," she muttered. "And what brings you by, Mrs. Prescott?"

"I came to ask you why you despise my husband so much. What did he ever do to you?"

Rex groaned to himself. This did not bode well. He knew both women were forces to be reckoned with and he did not want to get caught in the middle.

'But if I have to, I will. I'd be more mortified if something happened to Torie and her baby than to Trixie.'

"Trixie . . ."

"No, she needs to know, Re . . . Racer X. She needs to know what a scumbag Taylor is."

"Scumbag?" Trixie echoed.

"Yes. Scumbag," Torie stated, the anger no longer smoldering but burning bright. "He's tried to make my life a living hell since I've moved here and he did his damndest to break me and Ryan up after we started dating."

"That's in the past," Trixie pointed out.

"Doesn't matter. There are some things I don't forgive so easily, Mrs. Prescott. And I will never forgive Taylor for everything he's ever done to my friends."

"He's done nothing to them."

By now, both women were in defensive stances and Rex moved to stand between them. It proved to be pointless. Torie's stance changed as did her tactics.

"You're right. He's done nothing to them. All of them, that is. He did, however, do his best to hurt Ryan and Robert. Especially Robert. My friends mean the world to me, Mrs. Prescott. They're my family away from family. You mess with them, you mess with me. I don't take kindly to that. Surely, you're the same way, right?"

"I am," Trixie nodded hesitantly. Torie's sudden change had her nervous. Rex saw it. It had him nervous, too.

"Then let's just leave it at that, okay? You appear to be very happy with Taylor and I don't want to be the one to ruin that," Torie stated softly. "As much as I despise him, I wouldn't wish any ill on him or you. Can you leave it be?"

Trixie nodded once more.

"Okay . . . would you like something to drink while you're here?"

"Sure . . ."

"Have a seat, both of you."

Torie walked into the kitchen as Trixie sat on the couch. He sat next to her.

"How's Speed doing?" she asked after a moment had passed in silence. She kept folding her hands over and over again.

"Doing good," Rex nodded. "Taking things slowly but he's doing all right."

"Has he . . ."

"Asked about you? No. Just thinks about you. I can tell by the look in his eyes. He still loves you, you know."

"I know and I still love him. But what's done is done. There is no going back. Not for me, anyway," she gave him a wane smile.

"You sure about that, Trixie?"

"Very sure, Racer X. Very sure."

A phone rang somewhere as they sat there. The next thing Rex knew, Torie had grabbed her jacket and was out the door, muttering something about being right back.

"What's that all about?" Trixie asked.

"I don't know," he said as the door closed. He had a sinking feeling that it wasn't good.

"Maybe we should follow her, make sure she'll be all right," Trixie suggested. "She didn't look too happy."

He nodded and they exited the apartment.

* * *

"Speed, you need to calm down. You're not doing yourself any good by working yourself up," the nurse stated firmly. Mrs. Racer watched as the nursing staff worked with her son. He had not gone to physical therapy, stating he didn't want to go anywhere until he had talked to Torie Cronkhite. When the staff had initially refused to call her on the grounds that they didn't have her phone number and that she could be at work, Speed had become agitated and had not calmed down since.

"I want to talk to Torie," he stated, his breath coming in short spurts.

"Maybe you should call her," Mrs. Racer suggested. "At least leave a message for her to stop by." Her concern for her son had grown and it was clear to her that he would not calm down until he talked to the older woman.

"We don't have her number," the nurse informed her.

"But his roommate does," Mrs. Racer pointed out.

"And he isn't in here. Mrs. Racer, please. We're trying to calm down your son . . ."

Mrs. Racer narrowed her eyes at the young woman then slipped out. She didn't particularly care for the woman's tone, especially since she couldn't get it into her head as to what would calm her son down.

'Better talk to Dr. Richmond.'

* * *

 _"Ride the ride . . . ride the ride . . . ride the ride . . . Gonna ride the ride . . ."_

Sparky had been standing outside with Robert, Pops, and Inspector Detector as they smoked their cigarettes when a silver-grey pick-up truck pulled into the parking lot and immediately found a parking spot. He marveled at how well the driver had taken the turn at a slightly faster speed than recommended.

'Driver's got some skill . . . and that truck looks familiar . . .'

"Torie's here," Robert announced, crushing out his cigarette.

"How can you tell?" Pops asked, looking at him.

"The music. She's in a Bangles mood. Always plays their music whenever she's sad or pissed off or just in a mood to listen to them. Calms her down, cheers her up, you name it," Robert explained. "Big fan."

"Ah."

Within a couple of minutes, Torie walked up to them, Racer X and Trixie right behind them. Sparky watched as Torie nodded in hello then breezed right by them. Racer X and Trixie stopped.

'That's one determined woman,' he mused.

"I know that look," Pops commented. "I feel sorry for whoever crosses her path."

"You have no idea," Robert stated.

"What's she doing here?" Sparky asked. "Do you think the hospital finally called her?"

"Nope," Robert answered, pulling out another cigarette and lighting it. "I called her and told her to get here before they decide they need to sedate him."

"You think they'll do that?" Sparky couldn't help but feel a little scared for his friend. He knew Speed. Once he got riled up, it took him a while to calm down.

"They nearly sedated Torie after the accident and she wasn't even that hysterical so yeah, I think they would. Haldol is a very nasty drug."

Sparky's eyes followed the length of the building until it reached the floor where his best friend stayed.

'Just when things were starting to get a little better.'

* * *

"Leave me . . . alone," Speed panted. The nurse just stared impassively at him. He couldn't read her nametag but he knew that it wasn't Val. Val had a kinder, sweeter persona about her and would have called Torie by now. Why couldn't they just call Torie, like he had asked? He wouldn't have gotten worked up if they had. It was important, after all, that he talk to her right away. The message simply would not keep until she came to visit Robert.

"Young man, you need to calm down," she stated.

"So . . . you keep . . . saying . . ."

"I think I can help him do that," a female voice stated. "Would you mind giving us some privacy?"

The nurse turned and looked but Speed knew it was Torie. He'd heard her voice enough lately to know she was there without having to look. A sigh of relief escaped him.

"Excuse me, miss, but . . ."

"But what? You gonna deny him the right to a visitor? Especially if that visitor can help calm him down without the use of drugs? I do believe that's against the law. Now please leave and give us some privacy before I locate your supervisor and inform her of what's going on."

The nurse huffed and stormed out. Speed smiled at Torie as she sat next to him.

"Thanks," he breathed.

"No problem," she smiled. "Now what's gotten you all worked up that you had to see me?"

"I had a dream about you last night . . ."

"A dream?" she blinked.

"Yes . . . It was weird because it wasn't me with you. I know it wasn't me." His voice dropped to a whisper. "I heard people around me but their voices were faint. All I could think about was you being safe. Then I saw you. You were a vision to behold and you were holding a child and I felt such love that it permeated everything."

Speed paused for a moment, his entire body shaking. He could only imagine what Torie had to be thinking at that moment.

'Must think I'm a lunatic but I've gotta tell her. I just gotta.'

"Is that all that happened in your dream?"

"No . . . You said something, something that told me that it wasn't me. . . You said I love you, Ryan O'Connell and that I was to never forget it. I said that I never would and that I would be watching over you and our son. Always and forever watching and that I loved you. He told me to tell you that and that's when I woke up."

He took a deep breath then managed to twist his head so he could look at her. He half-expected to see an angry expression on her face, especially at the mention of her deceased fiancé. Instead, he saw an expression of sadness and disbelief.

"Torie? Are you all right?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "Did Robert tell you?"

"Did Robert tell me what?" he asked, confused.

She gazed at him, as if gauging something. Then she nodded.

"No. He didn't tell you . . . Ryan really did come to you and tell you that."

"You're not . . . mad?"

"No," she shook her head. "I'm not mad. I have no reason to be. You said things that I mainly knew . . . except about the baby . . ."

"The baby? You mean . . .?"

"Am I pregnant? Yes," she nodded. "I just didn't know what I was going to have and I was going to wait until the delivery to find out. I'm having a little boy . . . Gerald and Mitsu will be happy to hear that."

"Who are they?"

"Ryan's parents," she answered. "I made the announcement of my pregnancy at Ryan's funeral. I needed to give them something to hold onto, something more than just memories, y'know?"

"Yeah. I know."

"So, because of this dream, you got yourself all worked up and sent everyone into a tizzy. Shame on you," she chided, smiling a little.

"I didn't want to wait for you to come and visit Robert," he grinned back. They fell silent for a few moments, his hand somehow finding hers.

"Thank you, Speed. You don't know how much that means to me."

"You're welcome."


	15. Chapter 15

"And look who's up!"

Pops looked over at the cheerful announcement as his wife and Torie walked out of the hospital, his son in a wheelchair in front of him. It pained him to see Speed in the chair but he knew there wasn't anything for it. The number of injuries he had sustained the year prior had taken their toll on him.

'But the doctor says that he'll be able to walk again in time. I just hope he hasn't lost any of his determination to succeed.'

"Good to see you up, Speed," he said, plastering a smile on his face.

"Feels good to be up," Speed stated, his eyes bright.

"And there's more good news," his wife beamed. "I talked with Dr. Richmond. He's updating Speed's dietary status to see if he can handle solid foods and in a few days he'll be able to go home. Isn't that great?"

"Sure is," Sparky agreed. Pops noticed Speed's smile dimming a little and sighed to himself.

'For some reason, he's resigned to stay here. But why? There's nothing here for him! How can anyone move away from what they already have?'

The answer eluded him and he failed to notice that Trixie had left without saying a word.

* * *

 _"Take care of her for me, will you? She's a stubborn gal, hides a lot of what she's feeling, and prefers to deal with things on her own, but she is a sweet one."_

 _"But what if she refuses to have me around?"_

 _"She won't." He heard the smile in the other man's voice. "I know Torie very well. A lot of men have always been interested in her but she follows her heart. She has the heart of a winner, Speed. So do you."_

 _"That I'm not so sure about . . ." Speed turned his head away. "I can't even take care of myself right now. How am I going to be able to help her if I can't even help myself?"_

 _"By not feeling sorry for yourself," came the reply. "You have the strength and determination to get through this. Just look within yourself. You only have to prove your own worth to yourself. No one else and she'll tell you that herself."_

 _"How will I know she'll feel the same way?"_

 _"Play her a song, Speed. Play her a song."_

 _"Which one?"_

 _"When the time comes, you'll know. Now get some sleep. You've got a lot of work ahead of you. Torie isn't easily won. Something your brother is about to find out."_

 _"My brother? What do you mean by that?"_

 _"Good night, Speed. I'll talk with you soon."_

* * *

Speed opened his eyes to an early morning light and an empty room. Robert had been released the day before and his parents had gone to stay at a hotel to get some much needed sleep. At least, he assumed he had been alone until a gentle voice spoke.

"I didn't expect you to wake this soon."

"Trixie?" he whispered.

"Yes," she whispered back, stepping into his view. "I can't stay long. I'm going to be leaving Philadelphia for a while . . ."

"I won't ever see you again, will I?"

"No," she shook her head. "You won't. I'm sorry, Speed."

"Trixie . . ."

"Look, Speed. I've made several decisions this past year, decisions that I have to live with. It isn't fair for me to take you down. Take care of yourself, okay?"

Before he could say anything more, she leaned over and kissed him then disappeared out the door. His spirits sank low, lower than what they had the first time she had walked away from him and he fought back the tears as they threatened to overtake him.

"No," he murmured. "I can't do this . . . I can't let this bring me down. I have to pull through . . . I have to . . . for my own sake."

He knew he'd be going home soon. His father had been very adamant about that. Pops wanted him to carry out his physical therapy at home while he wanted to stay. Rather than argue about it, he had agreed, much to his parents' relief.

'But I'll come back. In six months, I'll come back . . . and I'll be walking. That way no one will have to worry about taking care of me. I'll be a champion once more, a champion of my own heart and my own life.'

 __

~Finis~


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